of being

the sun rose higher and as it rose
it stole the chill from her bones
she opened like a flower does
slowly and slowly into the warmth
she felt the gentle ripening
of promises seeded in her soul
all untruths withered and fell away
rich lushness of the fruit was hers
whispering of the wine to come
she knew then, there was nothing
nothing left for her to do
but to whirl in joyous abandon
in the sheer amazement of her being