BLESSING POEM

Out of night's ocean she rises beaming, wetly
pearlescent, Born in the shell of memory.
Her figure floating, spine arched, head tipped
in the giving of herself,
as the field gives itself to the morning sun.

She is the blessing, the open heart. the giver of the cup;
in her hands are stones of light distilled from drops of love and pain.
She is goddess, sacrifice the lady of serpents and flowers,
crowned with all the thorny roses that innocence costs.

She is the blessing, her fingers bright as hope's cradle.
She is the blessing, the water woman Her bare feet
resting weightless over the pool that gathers from the plume
of water that washes over shoulders, breast, legs in baptism.

She is the blessing; sky-sighted, almost blind
with the light. In her eyes are the mirrors of her gift:
The secret of the rainbows bending and our own.

By: John Schlesinger

"EARTH BLESSING" A Bronze Fountain Sculpture mounted on a stone. Water pours from her hands falling into the stone bowl with a recirculating pump. Edition of 10 includes a Certificate of Authenticity