V. The Medicine of the Mountaini. Water
Sister went up to the mountain
to find the source
of the water she’d been drinking
all her life.
Far from home
with a heavy burden:
heartbroken,
world weary,
and unsure of herself.
She climbed the worn trail
for what felt like hours,
then rested on a rock
by The River that Runs Backwards,
home of the ancestors,
mover of memories.
Tears of tragedy
rolled down her cheeks.
On her back she carried
a heavy pack,
a bag of bones
from the ancestors she’d known,
and from those who’s names
had been forgotten.
She dipped her hands
into that cold stream
and drank.
“Put down your burden,”
said a voice from the water.
“I can’t,” she said, "it's too much..."
“Who says that?” asked the water.
She clutched her tired heart, “Me?”
“Check again,” the water gurgled.
She leaned over the bank
and saw her reflection
clear and pale,
each feature drawn from another’s:
mother, father, aunt, uncle
grandmother, and great grandmother...
all saying, "I can't...It's too much."
In their eyes
she saw fatigue.
In the set of their jaws
she saw resistance.
In their brows
she saw the bitter resignation
of the forsaken.
She dropped the bag to the ground
and the bones tumbled out.
With them came a despair
familiar like home.
Dry, brittle bones!
But, there was something else…
Resilience, and
a prayer to be fully felt.
She felt them then—all of them.
It was a pain she’d known
all her life,
mistaking it for her own.
She washed each bone
by hand before stringing
them into garlands.
I am the hope of my ancestors.
I am the promise of restoration.
ii. Earth
Time passed in contemplation,
hypnotized by the scent of soil,
she fell slowly backwards
where the eyes cannot see--
Only trusting
it would be there...Earth.
Unable to move, so heavy--
beyond and below language.
From her body,
filaments descended.
A root pushed down
through the coolness
of sediment and stone,
until she felt the heat,
memories of the original collision.
Her center of gravity
was deep in the core.
Timeless patience
of this planet
still in formation,
still becoming.
She smiled,
to be a part of its destiny,
as its child.
On the surface of it
proud flowers and foliage!
No Botany here, only beauty…
and networks of communication
above and below.
Now it was the plants that spoke,
mind of the biome,
older than time and wiser, too:
"Many lives you’ve lived — many burials,
as a queen and as a slave,
as somebody and nobody at all.
You always feel poor because
you confuse your circumstances
with your worth.
This is a shallow mistake
humans often make.
Push deeper into your body,
into this earth,
and know I will provide."
They showed her their roots,
pushing deep into the earth,
crawling with insects and invisible life,
smaller in size, but no less mighty.
Ants marching,
hairs alive with sensing,
An intergalactic superhighway of mycelium
agnostic to animal,
vegetable, or mineral.
Aquatic algae and
terrestrial fungi,
a Regnum Bacterium.
She heard the hum of unthinkable coherence
in a rhythm below ground.
A microbial city
more dense than Shibuya
and more colorful, too.
And every blade of grass above
swayed gently in the breeze
like nothing special.
What I am is both essential and irrelevant.
I am worlds waiting to be born.iii. Fire
The sun was low,
its light was long.
Feeling a chill,
she built a fire,
burnt some sage,
heated water for tea.
Watching the flames
dance and flicker
something in her stirred--
the desire to live--
to be fully alive,
eyes blazing and watchful.
A ring of protection,
the fire's light pushed back,
the ruthless and unpredictable
threats of the night.
Under celestial fire,
she gathered ash
and covered her naked body.
Dark now like the night
she wore the bone jewelry,
untied her hair,
and began to dance.
Nocturnal rhythms
echoes of the beginning.
Slowly, through movement
she entered more deeply
the history of mankind
and some grander cosmic plan.
She wondered: "Why so erotic?"In the flames she saw
every lover she'd had,
every meal she'd shared,
and every heart-connection made.
Feel in me the comfort
of an old friend, a partner,
the warm glow of union.
I draw people together,
chase away the blues,
and clear the way
for intimacy, communion,
and the telling of stories that
weave us together.
Communal beings--I am your totem.
Smoke tobacco,
bake the bread we will break together,
stay up past midnight
and still see the faces of your sisters.
I am the spark that moves you
to make love or write poems.
Take me for granted and I go out.
Get too greedy and I consume.
Dancing with the fire
can only be learned
by getting burned
from time to time.
Sister's dance came to a close
as the flames mellowed and settled
into a warm glow.
Never alone, we are always sitting around the fire.As long as we are alive, we burn for each other.iv. Air
The wind picked up.
That night as Sister slept,
a final apparition
descended the path from the peak.
A woman of great beauty
and golden light,
robes of spider silk
sparkling at every node
with a drop of dew.
Made of wind and music,
the gift of hearing into form,
like wind chimes,
like a flute.
She recognized the woman at once
By sight, sound, and feel:
This is my Soul.
Each milestone, each memory
glistened in the dew drops
of her ancient dress.
Her whole life was in that web.
She watched the blessed,
ordinary moments
with tears of recognition:
I remember. I remember.
From the sacred heart of the Soul,
a beam of light
penetrated what armor was left
and Sister was filled with her Soul’s love:
It was a burning, passionate love.
Full of amusement, adoration,
delicate holding,
fierce protection,
and sweet gratitude.
It contained water, earth, fire and air...
and all the space we need
for that alchemy called life.
Without speaking Soul thanked Sister
for living on her behalf.
Sister had never felt so whole,
"That love you’ve been looking for
all your life?
The one that knows your every gesture?
Who sees your flaws and loves you more?
Who believes in you when you can't?
Who finds you fascinating?
I am that love.
I have always been here.
I didn’t miss a thing.
I loved you through it all.
You were never alone."
Sister took the words in like nectar.
Wild relief and wisdom
flooded her body.
So, this is what it’s like
to be your own beloved.
Soul took Sister into her arms.
In that embrace there was only One.
Soul entered the inner sanctum,
the heart,
her home,
and took her seat.
That was the moment
Sister finally knew who she was,
finally stopped berating herself,
and purged every faulty belief
that had been planted in her.
Ripping them up by the roots
and tossing them off the precipitous edge
Of that holy mountain.
I wear the robes of the old, old gods.
I am the embodiment of my Soul's promise.
Sister slept then
like a newborn baby.
She woke at dawn
and washed herself in the river
that was now running swiftly
forward.
Beautiful!!