In the darkness

of winter and ice

we come as a circle of women.

we come down off the shelf,

opened and singing.


an only child finds a sister

a buried child finds her breath.


together, we unpack

the mystery of our fathers

lovers, mothers

untying broken shoes.


we offer in our set of tools

pencils, stories, drums and oars
shelters, songs, maps and bread.


energy lost becomes energy found.

we are shepherds

and we are the sheep.


together we hold

hearts in the snow.

in this circle we feel our dreams

and burn our demons.


The Tribe of Light

Circle of Women

Warriors of Love.


one voice becomes a choir

digging deep into the earth

picking bones, licking wounds

pulling brush,

planting seeds

untying knots of weathered hair.


bearing witness

blessed and blooming

we wash our feet

in tears.


steps come to be a dance

this dance becomes an arch

through this arch

we find The Way

and migrate towards the sun.

the sun becomes a loaf of bread

body, then a hand.

each hand has a tool

these tools become an army

a thriving tribe that will survive.


the fur, tail, lungs, the heart

all create the wolf

each piece becomes the whole

the whole becomes the leader

and that leader

becomes One.