(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…