In the beginning, there was a fury of noise
Black cloaked maidens spat ribbons of gray stars,
Arcing into brilliant rivers,
And shaking off their casings,
They fell across the empty blackness;
into a white, etheric dance.
In the beginning,
Ancient spirits peaked through invisible doors and
Plucked through thickets of stars
They pulled their black hems across the threshold-
They came: solemn, dark, demonic, godlike, gross, and gay-
The sorceress of night, the grandmother of Fae
They came one after another
With long and timeworn faces
To watch the unfurling of the Great Spiral.
In the beginning, you were there-
We sat dewy-lipped with silent smiles
In the center of a great seed,
Watching as All-Everything snaked across the sky:
The greatest drum pounded proud songs out into new ears
And the first tears were formed and fell across the face of the night,
Watering the seeds that would sprout into All-Life
We held our hearts and whispered songs
Into new and unborn palms
Breathing in and out anew
In the sacred tongue that filled our lungs and slipped from lips before the dawn of time.
It was there waiting for us,
And written in the sky:
The secret language of everything.
It is there still
It lingers silent in the center, waiting
To breathe fresh stars
Into the spiral anew.
Fashion an altar of the souls of your feet:
Sticks and stones and ocean bones//
Save the thickest tears for the center.
Let your roots roll out from underneath you
Until you find the perfect place (you will know it)
It is untouched by the wind.
This is the place where you are tethered.
Lay your stories down here
Lay down all your wind and rain.
Pluck a twig from the right tree and lay it across just so.
Bleach your bones in the sun
One deep scream
Three drops of rich umber blood
It is finished.
I am making soft and purple waves in this world; I am drinking in tarot and tea,
I am slicing my stories on silver slivers of Moon.
I am seducing myself
Back into Self Love,
Basking in a new womb.
Sliding into One Rhythm with my slow hips-
My twisted spine, my stained fingertips,
And all the stories spilling through my skin in black ink.
There is peace in the space between and breath in the stones
There is sun in your lungs and song in your bones.