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: 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. 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 