lost in the verdant overgrowth
of days and weeks of rain
too beautiful
a misty sunday morning
Not to go walking in the Meadow
shed snakeskin transfiguration
stone warmed
in yesterday's heat and she reclined
writhed
slipped out of her old life
new
naked
open
scales removed from the eyes
of her soul
she is gone in Joy
to the unlit caverns of Night
shrouded deep in earth
as the rains come again
unseen Makers
spin hanging basket webs
among the grasses
their only visible captives
shards of light
winking on and off
in passing flashes of early morning sun
mountain laurel
has clothed herself in blossoms
once again
and we shall dance here
in the firelight
under a full moon in three days time
our drums will tell our heartbeat
back into the heavens
starlight reflected
from the Mother to the Sky
transformation
is never Complete
the organic moment subsides into the gaseous
rising pure as light
light as prayer
giving the poetry of herself
into the keeping of the future
© 2011 pamela twining
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