Cold the stone where bare feet stand,
clinging like roots to the broken land.
Arms outstretched embracing the sky,
she faces the ocean ready to fly.
White whipped statin caressed by the air,
traces of amber her delicate hair,
tender flowers break free from her dress,
away on a wind they drift down to rest.
Mountainous stone upon which she stands,
goes down to the beaches, under the sands.
The ocean about it comes up to the stone,
thundering waves splash chilling the bone.
With tentative shifting she stands on her toe,
looking down on the rocks waiting below.
From lips red as blood she voices a prayer;
and gracefully diving lets go of her care.
Ambivalent shadows cross her fair face.
She commits to destruction falling with grace.
Then singing a song with ethereal strain,
drifts down like a feather to fall with the rain.