Walking Out of the Womb
The canopy of night covers the land
The stars of heaven blur hand in hand
I drift to slumber and die again
Iím light as air
I drop my pen.
The moon defines a lit circle of birth
Death shall deliver each Soul from earth
I hope next time when I fly beyond
Iíll become a gazelle or bird of song.
I canít seem to detach much more than an hour
Without being pulled back for my shell to devour
A prisoner of flesh I dream of ascension
I pray for peace in that dimension.
Iíd write in blood if it would set me free
But my daughter whispers:
"I'm only three."
(A Mayan Doctor did not deliver
Us from the torrent of the river.)
O' dear Sky Dove, Iíll stay for you.
I brought here,
Iíll see you through.
And if I cry
Itís so Iíll wake again
And hold the Light
Until you can.
Ciera S. Louise c. June 22, 2006