The sun and clouds roll over me in turn, My root anchored to Her rock.
There’s a flying green ant scavenging on my knee…
Pancho is exploring this grand playground of a mountainside
As always, being so purely a dog.
It’s late October and the air, still dry and hot, lulls my skin to sleep.
I love this place. My soul is singing deeply in my bones.
Her, My Soul's, still Hearth calling me back to grace.
It has rained. And I have rained recently.
My eyes are exhausted…filters for the views that serve me and vents for what must go.
In this moment the magnitude of their service to my Being boggles me.
They choose the face of the world in every waking moment.
They are brilliant. They are black.
They are a heartfull green ocean.
Behind them my brain breaks chains patterned by my Grandmothers.
I feel their poverty dissolving out of my field,
Transforming into the truth of faith and strength,
Solidifying my bones with the resilient resonance
Of those that carried my life inside of them.
It is astonishing to be alive.
An embryo can only be sown in the darkness.
I think of my ancestor's darkness and trust it has taught me what I need to know.
I think of my darkness and ask it to reveal its wisdom in whispers.
It is a necessary part of my Soul's possibility, it is fertile soil for the unknown.