I feel the moon in my heart,

Right hand folded on left,

Breathing in change,

Breathing out now.

My left hand rests care

On my chest and Om

Moves to the beat

As I take fear and unfold

It like a prayer to hold

All I know and all I don’t

In the grace under gratitude,

Roots grounded in how I grow,

Not like an oak tree that knows

The truth of an acorn but more

A seed that honors earth,

Even when it rests on the cusp of darkness

And remains the miracle

We see every day to draw

on promises—even

when I no longer

Believe in me, I dig in the soil

And feed a need that knows miracles

In moon shadow pump

Blood to hold the bloom.

As spirit rises, breathing light.

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Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: (Flickr)