I know that abyss –
swallowed up as I was
punch-drunk on darkness
Bled as I emerged,
each reach a scrape –
there was release too
Revived now, I honour
that passage, recognize
the making of a woman.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknuton. Image my own.)
There is no promise
life passes, sometimes trickles
we survive or thrive
love as glue, spirit reigning
heart open – sacred witness.
(Image my own.)
What if each soul,
in passing,
casts a seed
upon the earth –
and with each Spring,
the seeds burst
with beauty,
as a reminder
of the blessing
that is life.
Fertile is love –
an ancient fruit tree
soft and up-giving
were life root
almost too wet –
moony world
Secret: Â I wither,
am stone berry –
no rain at lake
walk bucolic earth
follow winter cover
shed colour
watcher,
will live,
do.
(Friday is Magnetic Poetry day. Â Image is from personal collection.)
Imperceptibly
they disappear
no ghostly trace
I am a doorway –
open, transparent,
absorbing
teleporting
extinguishing
souls, spirited away
Eden-bound
no return.
What corridor is this?
What beckoning –
wordless
sublime…
is this awakening
or does death
posture
in shadows…
my heart yearns
mourns …
to be absolved
of this strife
Let me surrender
let Grace guide
uncertain limbs
carry me…
I am ready…
One Woman's Quest 