My body aches to bury itself in the mud of these trees, to rub my back on the bark and cover my face with the clay of its pregnant earth. She sings to me in full soprano, her voice echoing across the stream, each note a ricochet off silver stones.
I bathe myself in her waters, feel the urgency of the stream greet me with hunger. I am overwhelmed by the currents, though I have sought the intensity of feeling, I feel myself now frightened by its gravity.
She moves feminine around me, through me, over me... beckoning me to cease clinging to her stones.
I grasp on, and watch in disbelief as my hands melt into the current. The molecules of me now as transparent as the wet womb of intuitive knowing. I let go and let her carry me...
Elohim...
I call out the ancient name for the one God. Despondent for years to the flames of hunger. You asked me what is devotion? I answered you. Let me learn now, even a fraction's worth about you.