and god is the water

by Lyla June 

 

 

and god is the water

 

When I close my eyes at night
I can feel the rock being cut open
by water.

I hear a grandfather song
and it sounds like sand
walking down
the river bottom.  

In this song they talk about how
even the mighty canyon walls are formed
by meandering streams.

Beneath the gentle waters there are people.
Not people like you and I.

Stone people.

When I close my eyes at night
I am one of them
and God is the water.

Over lifetimes
She eats away at me
until I am polished
and smooth.  

She teaches me
about being gentle and persistent,
about patience and commitment.  

She speaks to me
in trickle language
and says:

“Journeys.
Take them.
And try to remember
who you are
along the way.  

I have nothing for you
but these words.   

Take them with you
and I will see you again
when you arrive
at the ocean’s throne as
one million kernels of sand.”

Her voice
hums in my blood
quiet as a stream in the night
and it is a song about how
we are all
just
so loved.

The eagles dip their talons into Her soft body
and pull from it a fish
a fleshmeal
for their children.

They sing this grandfather song with her
and it sounds like feathers
cutting into the sky.  

In this song they talk about how even hatred surrenders to wonder.  

She is breaking my heart apart like
a stubborn puzzle of problems.  
Even the hardest
doubts and sorrows
give way to Her infinite grace.

And who knew that sometimes
grace can come from
standing in the wind until
everything we think we own
is ripped away from us and
replaced with a weightlessness
so profound that
we can’t not cry tears
of absolute praise
and run all around the
river banks shouting
to the minnows
and the cattails
and the crawdads
about the truth of beauty!?  

About the truth of a God that
breathes through the trees.

The truth of a God that
weaves winter from water and night
weaves bodies from dust and light
and carries us down the river of life
over and over
until we finally understand
the meaning of forever.  

In the language of the stones there is no word for mistake.
Only the complete understanding of what it
means to be a beloved son or daughter.  

We are the rock
and God is the water.

 

Lyla June

 

Lyla June

Lyla June is a musician, poet, anthropologist, educator, community organizer and public speaker. Many hats, but the underlying prayer is always the same. 

Find Lyla on Instagram, Facebook, and her website, Sodizin.