This week
I met my soul.
In the beginning
The air tasted of sweet grass
And strength -
I dug into the core of the earth,
Burned my hands on history,
Every sister and mother dampened my
parched tongue with drops
of woman water,
Their sweat and tears cooling my brow,
Their moans and howls
my meditation.
Last night
I met my son.
Who broke my heart
And reached my roots
Into natures womb,
Resting my head
On her bosom
Between pushing.
Gripping her strong branches
That wrapped and held me in return
Before relaxing.
Roars faded to low rumbles
Exposing my own power, of which
I’ve never known,
And vulnerability splitting my
core wide open,
Safer than I’ve ever been.
Planted
By the goddess
To be yours.
