Magpie 284 writing prompt
we've come to fullness. We come to the clay shaped
by the hands of God. To folds of earth, to mountains chiseled,
to white vapor on blue linen.
We taste the sky, the earth in alchemy...
salt, the shaker, the maker of all things green.
The sweetness of grass,
the sent of moss,
the raw of iron
and we taste an elixir of something monumental in the air;
sweet nectar of God.
Michael Allyn Wells