Parish at the Pond

Dragonflies whirl through the air like the thoughts in my head

Frogs congregate in the shallow of the pond and stare at me, intently hanging on every word of the affirmations I say aloud

Gentle gusts of wind carry away the things that no longer serve me

Butterflies slowly flutter their wings, as if encouraging me to continue on this inner journey

Dead cattail reeds that have already served their purpose peek out from the edge of the pond, just like my old stories, shame, and anger that helped shape me but are no longer alive

Warm tears well in my eyes, as I'm overcome with gratitude for this gathering of acolytes that have encircled me with their tiny spirits on this quiet, summer day