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.