Let the daggers fall, the blades slice the spears be flung. Let them all fall to the ground like rain, tears from eyes that bleed.

Let the daggers be leafs the blades be trees and the spears be pink blossom flowers. Let them fall to myself like settling dust on an old leather armchair in the golden sunset.

May they splash on my skin, and cause me to reflect in circles round to celebrate their arrival. Let my feet sink into the soil resurrect like an upside down phoenix.  

 I stand not tall and proud, but humble and brittle in the face of the brisk wind that graces my forehead. Let myself sink into the sand to join us in the cradle of life.

 I feel not with energy and might but old and weary like an oak tree in a dense forest of maple. Let myself drown in the harmony of the world.

 After. I grow a newborn. Life be mine to embrace