Ing’s ride

 

 I am Ingrid.

 I am Ing’s ride.

I ride the chariots of Spring.

I scatter petals in my wake;

and gather birds,

and throw them on the wing.

I am the herald of the growing light.

I am the waker of the seeds.

I am the heart of life on earth.

I ride the fields and surf

the wild and gentle winds.

I blow the beauty of the earth into your eyes;

I plant the seeds of beauty in your heart,

I give these seeds a name,  I call them yearning;

I am here at the worlds turning,

 turning.

Longing is what I call these seeds,

 I love the wild flowers

 and the weeds.

I am the fierce and fertile mother,

of all the universe I am one lover,

I am Ing’s ride,

 I am the harbinger of Spring;

 I ride the chariots of Spring.

And when’s man reign is over with and done;

in some far future millennium,

I will arise again in a sweet breeze

and scatter petals through the trees,

and gently wake the sleeping seeds,

for I  am  Ing’s ride, 

I am Ingrid;

I ride the chariots

 of

Spring.

© 2002

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