Before the sweet spring rain

In the shower

before the sweet spring rain,

my body embraced me


And surely

this is something of God?

My addled work-spun brain

tries to explain, explain, explain,

but there is nothing

that can compare

to the rich full-hearted subtlety

of body reclaiming you,

with only my whimpers and tears

as songs of the reunion.


This time,

of light and shadow,

played out

in feathers of

ivory and jet


that found me in the garden

and the bed;

poised are we,

before what we know

and know not what yet.


Moonlight streaks my hair

as I begin to heed

Old Saturn’s teachings;

and though

I am sure world

will ensure I forget,

casting me into rosy sleep,

as it must:

I know.

My body is Great Mother.

She does not need to

only be sought in woods,

creeks and beaches,

although in these she

resides and is embodied too.

She is me.

Neck down,

canyons of hips and thighs,

loving me, gently yearning for me

to remember and know

and receive her secret wild, bloody wisdom.

And so I know the Earth,

And so the Earth knows me.

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