Standing in the spray of the founts around Jomo's statue
...things I have taken for granted...
Today I stop and stand.
I want to kick off these heels,
But this is not holy ground.
I know, it's weird.
I'm standing here, all by myself,
with people rushing out the gate beyond,
in black and red.
But I'm waiting,
For the occasional wind to turn the spray in my direction,
And cover me with tiny cold droplets,
Of falling water,
Listening to the sound,
I could sleep to this,
Surrounded by my heart,
Those who hold my heart loved and precious.
I could sleep here,
To the sound of falling water.
Oh, wash over me,
Cover me with freshness,
Carry away my pain,
And my tired.

Whip wind,
To me.
Let those cold droplets fall on me,
Cover me.
Wash away the strain
The pain
The tired.
Leave me new.
I am love.
I am whole
I am here.
This is new.
Come wash me
Cover me,
Take this heaviness with the whipping of the wind
and the droplets drying on my face,
throat,
arms
and legs.
Come wind.
Calm water.
Sleep now.
It is over.
Let it go.