A Motherswell of Love Dance

-- to our progeny

It seems a plausible imperative,

(she tells us)

trust yourself - ride the intuition.

It will wake you at 3 am, mercurial
as an infant still in womb time.

Unannounced - it can take your breath
like the Tower card from Waite Ryder,

all those flames and falling bodies.

Trust yourself to just exhale.
See, winter passes,

(she’s rolling now)

it's 85 outside - we're between jet streams.
Trust yourself – just be naked sometimes –
turn up in a favorite dream.
lead with your belly, walk with Ursula
rising from nap time. She's ravenous, grumpy.
(so are we)
When we lumber into the stars of summer,
we'll suck on bones of worry -a marrow that kicks like sin.

(she pauses)

Trust yourself - it's in the water,
this love dance of fractals, this swirling Troposphere
weeping mercy onto deserts of Somalia and Djibouti.

Its gift is fresh gumption -
lifts wings and floods flight paths with all the usual suspects -
poets and children, red knots and butterflies.

And oh! The horseshoe crabs -
such ceremony in a May arrival,
their motherhood, blind treasure of foam born
in neap tides washing up in an endless line.

Just like that

(snaps her fingers)

trust yourself to be in step with our critical mass.
You - pebble launching a thousand avalanches,
a thousand miracles.

Now ride Sally ride!

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What the Muses Leave Behind

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