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Emerging from The Den into the Moonlight

I think this is the liberation of Self that I never knew I needed. Reaching out from the caves of my primitive mind to the place where warmth touches the earth and all things glow with the radiance of their own unique light.

 

I am water. I move with the moon.
I mold to the soft curves of Mother earths body.
I am made up of cycles, and ripples, and dreams

susceptible to the wild winds wandering.

I am a river. An Ocean. The rain. Tears.
I am the enemy of the fire that destroys beauty.
I am a core of light and energy that caroms about the world 
I am the seeker of words and protector of History.

 

When I was a small girl I hit a small white dog until it whimpered a whimper that wasn’t so small. It was heavy and it shook me and it broke me to my making, but I was just trying to understand the nature of the universe and the ventricles of living. I’ve held that secret softly in the dark depths of many mirrors, but I was just an innocent child seeking innocent answers.

 

I am a sensitive soul, more so than most.

 

When I was a medium girl  I drank rivers of whiskey and inhaled snow covered mountains. I lied and I cheated and I manipulated the goodness. I ate from the Garden of Eden and burned down all the trees. I fell into the sun while looking for boundaries to hold me.

 

When I was a big girl  I mistook the temper of monsters for the

love of good men.
I was never taught to see the difference between them.
So I cried and I licked wounds and I buried broken bones
Evidence hidden in the mirky mud of self-unknowing.

 

Now, I am a woman of the wild and the free and the curious owls. I am darkness and lightness and ever-changing clouds.

I am a water-wolf howling at the same cold moon that moves me.
A sacred dance of the devotee to the sacred songs of the Coyote
I am the raven perched upon the birches branches

Hiding in the shadows of the suns midnight reflection

I am the feminine and the masculine.
The Intuition and the Reason.
I am the Jester and sometimes the Judge.

 

I am the blade and the blood.

 

The loved and the broken.

 

I dream. I weep.
I love with such depth that it resonates in echoes

shaking caverns below the earth,
beckoning to the others to emerge
and feel the warmth of their protean being.

And it takes all of me,
but I give it, willingly.

 

I have begun to stir loose from the fruitless cement pastures
poured on the earth by vulnerable hands of weak masters
In a society that has forgotten its way back to the trees
I will be the light if you ask for it.


 

 

 

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December 13, 2016

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