The Global Heart #poetry

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Photo Credit: Pixabay

I cannot help thinking of the heart

and life’s breath held in separation

A viral wrap, searching for community

opening the return of the forgotten

goddess. She peers green eyes of the forest

through locks of fire. An earthen trunk

rooted to the life lines. Horns tuned

to the stars, bridging the divide

How everyone is feeling

the broken as fear’s seize spreads dis-

ease. Time, collapsing and morphing

twisting minutes too surreal to be real

Too real to be false. Lies breaking the voice

gasping for air through constricted lungs

while she breathes her return, softly beckoning

from the shadows. Can you see me now?

she asks. The key is held in your heart

and all

“First Woman”: A Solstice Dream

 

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Photo Credit: Pixabay

First Woman

You may call her Eve

but I knew her as Melissa

The first woman born of her clay

write her story, they whispered

and so I do, following the trace

of her line. The curve of the body

born supine to face the sun

my eyes, watching the slow unwrap

of the goddess. A womb like a hive

my mind, pulled toward the drones

anxious in the hurry to follow a crowd

to nowhere. I turn back

relearning the slow unfolding

of woman. The mother skin lifting

its mold. I watch her smooth the lines

so slowly I am pained by the thought

that we will be left behind. But she

cares not of the train rushing

to the forgetting land. Her fingers

the mystery I need to remember

how carefully she births self

without division and smooths the folds

until lines become curves

until there is no beginning

and no ending

she just is.