Her voice
This piece was written swiftly in a strange moment, when I was feeling both anger and deep love. I think the anger opened the door for Love, for Her.
Silence. For aeons.
Then a voice unfurls
Spiked like a dandelion
Unwelcome, considered a weed.
Dark green with minerals
Shocking yellow flowers.
Pelargonium high on mountainside
forged by wind and sun
Fragrance of the Magdala
A coronation of stars
You are a garden enclosed my sister my bride
a spring enclosed, a fountain sealed
Rose heart of the mother
giving perfume intimately
Red-black galaxy
of courage
This voice is her own.
Unrecognised, in love
The mystery and abandonment
of the garden.