Seeker of the Edge

(A continuation from Ash Wednesday’s poem, Seeker of Ash) • • • Outside,the moon hangs with foresight. Inside,I sit in the basement of the sanctuary, rifle theforgotten book on my lap,flashlight in hand,flip with fury,find fallen phenomenon. Creeeeeak, creeeeeak, creeeeeakFootsteps above me,my heart stops— What if they figure me out? Quiet settles,I keep on,forge for informationof the deep way With roots fixed firm,there she is —arms rise to flexible form,an expansive stretch Gaia, spreader of seeds With flaming heart,there she is —eyes flicker with desire,faces the fable of sin Eve, seeker of solid food With fluid connection,there she is—hands embrace…

Her Power Returned (Day by Day)

Her power returned to her the day she chose to place the stapler down from the boxy bulletin boardto move beyond the edges whereher creative savvy flew free. Her power returned to her the day she resigned from beating herself upfor “brokenness,” all she “isn’t” —to embrace the goodness and sacred beauty of all she is. Her power returned to her the day she traded cultural normsthat kept her quiet, small and politefor her inner wisdom which told her to move toward becoming. Her power returned to her the day she laid down the ingrained pattern to serve everyone before…