the day is sweeping sunlight fingers through my hair,
brushing gold over my eyelids, and I have never noticed
how my skin can candle-glow at noontime
and the breeze has spoken to the leaves
coaxing them to sigh away from their branches
and land on my shoulders like a spray of freckles
this is the first day of the first year with my eyes open
stretching languid muscles, testing my strength
and I am bathing in my own breath
so I kiss my soil feet and say a quiet prayer
to the god of secrets - crossing my head and heart,
a promise to keep this between the earth and me
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