Waiting for the landing, for a soft fall to the spongy earth,
Waiting for the lift of dank air,
Waiting to drop down into my stomach and toes and the planet’s fire,
Waiting for this spinning and clenching to come to rest on the shoulders
.     of ancient, living rock.

It’s been months of work, of back-breaking, mind-bending, focused, energized vision
.     coming to life,
a birth, an unavoidable pushing through, a harsh cry, a stream of tears.

But now, the landing,
the faint voice of the sea dragon,
a whirring down just enough to hear that great wild call and turn,
cupping ear with hand,
awakening the vast, vast silence that is the weave of the Great Nest.

And what is it to be here, now, in this place of presence and possibility?
What is it to be unfurling, rolling out the future with my very breath?
What is it to know my beauty and my strength, and to gently tease it out to the world?
What is it to ask that my body and life are a great love letter
.     to this sacred place, this resplendent planet, this heart-melting,
.     heart-breaking world?

And I pray, yes pray,
for courage to choose,
for another heart beat, and another, as many required, for the task of this life,
for ears to hear the singing of the universe in each starry sky, each tree, each child…
for wisdom and a brave knowing that bring my belly and this leaf into harmony,
.     your wound and my meadow heart into a slow dance,
for laughter and wonder and worship and love,
to be a river simply flowing to its source,
for obedience.

And the landing, in silence and fire, and the sea dragon calling and the beauty and breath, and, ah the meadow and river, and the dance, and my belly in the leaf and the heartbreak earth and the unfurling, riveting, sacralizing that is unremitting and wild,
and the grief, and the song… I am yours.


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