Fear rises in my being,
Clouds across the crystal sky.
I feel the rain, drink it in.
There is still no part of me
That is not holy and divine.
Raindrops turn to seeds of ice
Gathered up in both my hands.
On the altar of my heart,
Fire melts and sends them up:
An offering as precious
As any other sacrifice.
(Written by Oraia Sphinx, 6/29/11)
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