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.

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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.  

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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.
 

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