Rambling Roads 🏵

I walked on fire again last night.   Surrounded by women I may have never met. Except for our shared searching in the dark  for the light of fire,  still burning in our bellies. We’ve always gathered in circles, cycling back through ages. But every time feels new as I stare into the shimmering, crackling coals. I try to tap into that ancient wisdom, the retelling of stories until each woman’s voice blends into one. And we toss them all into the flame through tears and laughter and pounding drum. Burning the illusions and agreements  that no longer serve us, wondering if we too  will be consumed by heat. But a funny thing happens  as I step out the other side, as my foot touches the cool, moisture of grass. The sensation of heat and cold lose their meaning. And all that is left is a sense of tingling with life.  The old fears, sadness and pain rise like smoke, leaving me giddy and light and ...

Here we are Eye to eye And thirsty Tenderly testing the waters Of this deep, crystal clear pool. But we are no longer young and foolish We can still hear the sizzle from the last time We let such enchanting water  put out our roaring flame.   We are sweaty and weary And wear our battle wounds with pride. We are warriors not unfamiliar to the weight of a sword We’ve slashed ties and built a fortress And guarded it fiercely to raise our young. So we dance carefully around each other Stealthy and alert We poke and pry And make careful notes of each response. But allow ourselves to be curious  of the shape taking form in the stone As we each chip away at deceptions, mirages, and alluring sleights of hand. Our machetes drawn, we are determined  to clear out the briars of our own illusions. The taste of salt and blood rests soothing on my tongue.  And we find scars braid stronger where the skin was torn. ...

Starting over   is an eternal beginning.   The bruise of night bleeds seamlessly  into the rosy pink of dawn.   Standing up too quickly  from the amnesia of sleep,  leaves me dizzy. Like the swirling, spiraling, somersaults  of a snake consuming its own tail. Lifetimes merge when I look at you.    How many times have we stood  before this reflection? Like stacked shadows of past lives. New stories unravel from your mouth, but your eyes still feel like coming home.  And when I put my trembling hand to your chest,  I cannot tell where your heartbeat ends  and mine begins. We reset at center. Eyes wide open, we step resolutely into each other’s arms. Every time you touch me, and respect the sacredness of that act, I open a little more. Every time we dare to dance  in forbidden spaces and find the other  still holding our gaze, we learn ...