THE WORLD HERSELF MUST CHANGE

If we feminize her, then I ask you to your face:

Have you ever known a woman awakening

To whom she has become

To torn & dirty clothing,

To civilizations

Wanting only

Enough

And cleanly lives.

Her breath can’t quite sync the change.

She’s wakened to our best & so much less unless you

            Suborn destruction

We live so intensely watching chimera

Aborted promises –

            Gutted for greed

But she’s awake.

It’s time to let go of the drama

To forge ahead on upcoming realities

So shave your head in rebirth

Feel the changes the Light will make

On your scalp.

Let the wind & wynd of your language

Move you to indwell

A willing heart.

Set down everything of who you have been,

If you wish to be anything else.

her hands smelled of Gardenias

from the oils added to the diffuser

bees danced outside her door.

The hand on my low back guiding me

So long has passed midway

Settled atop my spine

Watching over my shoulders

In excitement when I venture out

But the me who’s not That Me

Is inert, buried in a book,

A dream, as sublimation of life

Happening to itself elsewhere.

I miss ritual, the drums, the sage burning, the comradely changes of women meeting one month apart, coming from Church by way of the kitchen, let us eat before we drum.

And so we cleared away, choosing drums or uncovering them, forming an in & out circle with Grandmother in the center. We started her heartbeat, accosting all the grandmothers to reach for rattles, to join our rhythm.

We drummed away sadness while we welcomed its allowance; we drummed the sun across the sky, we broke & formed & ate again.

—–

I’ve

I’m

I

To whom this moment belongs:

Of whom life examples all

Unique to each

We dance

A skein of heartfelt beauty

Unabashed existence.

I have had that discussion

Un-numbered times

In languages I no longer speak

Won’t you set me free this moment?

When tears mist my eyes, hurting-salt

From glimpsing the rainbows just outside?

I don’t expect you to fall upon me weeping

When my eulogy is read

Unless I am the one reading it.

I am a Libra

All I can do is come into balance.

Once there,

I am free.