pilgrimage

on my trek to the
beginning of all beginnings
i can sit and whisper with
fireflies, campfire bugs

around my humble,
one above all, i wallow praise
to the lord, around my campfire
birthed by my hands, one above all

my holy chalice, a lone cooking pot
which births from her bosom, blesses
milk of the lords love
and my hands give praise

my lord, the silence in the breeze
one above all, the mother and her bounties
praise to my hands!
praise to the king of kings!