changing woman

you.

you know it, don’t you

that the star that birthed you

wept as you

whooshed like cosmic wind

through the darkness

and landed with open wings

– a simple feather floating –

onto the earth

 

yes.

a waterfall of tears

– the smiling ones that

sting just a little bit –

because she knew you

couldn’t be contained

but instead

poured out like silk

to coat mortal hearts

 

whispers.

that’s what i notice in

those blues of yours

whispers of oceans

so ancient

that names of every

creature and being

are scrawled beneath

her seabed

 

you.

how is it you can

twirl and whirl your spirit

while standing rooted

grounded, wholly here

your batik aura

as clear

as the hum of a

bronze singing bowl

 

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