the summer of love

She crawls up from the burrow,
clasps tight to this life,
and dies.

seventeen times around the sun,
she wandered the dreamtime,
and deepened her design.

in  the seventeen circles from summer to summer,
she practiced her prayer and
her promise.

in the web of the earth, we are woven.
Bringing air to the underground,
sky to the root,
we multiply into a singular song.

We dance, with our bellies and our strong wings,
the reminder of the patience of becoming.
Life is anchored in the pause of death.
There is a beauty that can blind us with fear.

In her deep, red gaze,
there is immediate life and imminent death reflecting.
The short song, sung full and fierce ,interrupts the lull and torpor.
It roams like buffalo, temporal and sacred....nearly lost.
are you listening?

What she speaks, we are invited to hear.
The yin rising, the dark soil shifting, she ushers in the memory of herself.
Emerging white, moving from blindness and the thick trust of legacy, she waits to fill with life to fly.
to sing.

Every moment is a surrender to the heart.

we are given to the wind, betrothed to the mystery.
Our family of one is a static of sound.
We arrive and dance among the puzzlement and wonder and complaint,
holding the secret in our shimmering black smiles.

What we know is simple to know.

it is the answer to every question.

live. sing. dance. die.

with all of yourself.

you belong to everything.