Girls In Trees

I climb in trees
fate is thin branches
hold a girl’s weight
toll of a bell
sway in the turn of seasons
cling to the metronome
wonder just how far over these old houses can I see
how far
              can this branch bend
              take me towards the earth and
              back into space again
              spring me in and out of reality
life exists between sky and earth
life within girl in leaves and roots
in soil
death exists.

Doesn’t know doesn’t
care where she will rest

She
              Swings.  Allows fate to
              toss dice.  Lets the wind
              make up its own mind. 
              Sails or no sails.
Swings
Climbs trees
Scrapes on
              Forearms
                             Thighs
Thick bark in hands
rough
feel my skin

Just as I am

See me as the girl in trees

Now in trees
equidistant
she is the connection of heaven and earth

I place a crown upon my head
goddess of in-between
              connection
              meeting point
              electricity
              communication
              alliance

Sacred heaven
mother earth
I hold you to my
              cherished chest

Sacred body
Magdalena’s earthly presence
carried in silks across
continents
shared in a hush, in a cry, in a joyous song
in the net in leaves
catch the sun
hold tight my moon
crown glints night and day
water, dark star dust
floats through
the fabric

I am on earth.

Held in comfort
my arms bear, rejoice, uplift, empower

I stand firm
feet in soil
Hair wild and tangled in the wind

I hold in my heart
the girls in trees

—————
(Written Summer 2018)

The Serpent

Here I lie it is 2019 and I never imagine things would come full circle with myself alone in perfect symmetry in the middle of my bed, an enchanted room I have created and in which I make magic in New Orleans, Louisiana.

Half of me is lit by Magdalena’s dancing flame, a soft gold as I fall asleep, the other side lit by white roaring lighting, wild and loud. And all the while my lost love Maynard chanting and this magic builds in my delicious room. Mer de Noms on shuffle and no, I am not triggered at all. I shine. Basking and swelling, humming prayers as I slip into sleep.

Full circle

Sweet child, if you could only see me now. Maybe you do, maybe that’s why you hold on.