There's no one to be seen. Just me, God, the trees and the rain. In the solace, the world is mine. The water forms a smooth river down my face and I push, push, push; reaching for Her. I'm shedding as I run. Worry Fear Stress Anger They can't keep up the pace. The river continues from my face, down my back. Tears join the river and wash out my eyes, baptizing me. In my shoes I hear sloshing and know it's a true submission. Take me, Rain. Take me and wring out everything I've accumulated. Cleanse. Slosh. Cleanse. Slosh. God holds space in this struggle. It's a washing and anointing. And when the ritual is complete, the only thing left is Me.
A place to see and be seen