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
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)
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