My Muse
has the Spirit of a migrating animal.
Following Her footsteps
leads me to fountains of joy,
Canyons of sadness,
And paths of moist, black soil
dense with passion.
She is the One who…
slows me down
And lights a fire under my tush.
Unearths the words,
And insists every image captured be untampered.
Points fingers to connect dots
and plops inspiration in my lap...
Confident that I can peel the beauty
From the fervent film of chaos.
We have an imperfect relationship.
She is eloquent, rooted, feisty, and loves to ruffle my feathers.
Often, I'm barking up her tree to move faster.
When she's awaiting my best roar,
I'll run and hide from my ferocity.
I’m trusting her more and more
To take me where I never thought I’d go.
My wish is
For you to take a deep breath with me,
so we can plunge into the underbelly of Creation.
To fold our stories into the Earth
and root into our humanity.
To roll in the mud and holy waters
in celebration of our animal bodies.
To heighten our sensual intelligence
And return to original innocence.
May we be vain enough
to see our natural beauty,
So we have the heart
to preserve the stunner
of a Great Mother
who is holding us all.