the woods are waiting for me tonight, dear stone fruit:

so i run fast over the wild land of returning paths
destiny chasing my heels, i enter
changing woman weaving house
where the otherworld is everywhere

weaving the integrity of emeralds, sacred lovers
tenderness in tents and the souls of the thousand white wolves
and so i weave, dear stone fruit:

to intuit fire i
am moon water i
am white shell
woman

& my only possession is a wooden jar
where i’ve collected seas and streams and tears
to keep them warm inside like a womb, protected
in my lap i nurture them
so that they are comforted
so that their eyes of rain are witnessed by mine
and i never spoke of burdens

and so we weave, dear stone fruit:
clouds into winds, tides for the fishermen
lyric of hearth and the seed of the eagleman
weaving, spinning the ever creating
web of wyrd

under the constant beat of the only sound there is:
of love