Under the canopy

Under the canopy

Waking in the still, half-light I ventured out
Barefoot
under the waning gibbous moon.
A wispy banner of cloud hung in the sky
Not night, not day
The earth welcomed me.

In the stillness there was movement
Not rain, as I thought, but the dripping cascade of moisture
from one leaf to another
Weaving a path to the earth below.

Moving into the circle,
under the canopy,
I was anointed,
blessed
with dew drops from heaven.

I’d been drawn from my bed
by the trees
to join a morning ritual,
prepared just for me.