memory or this is the poem I wanted to write

i.

A door opens.

There are no walls.

A magic garden appears, the scent of lilacs, roses, jasmine
and lilies gather like a needle of intoxication
under my weeping skin.
A sapphire sky and
crescent moon
shimmer all around me like a dream ready to unfold,
A zephyr embraces me, lifts my pale green dress
and I am transported to the center of a jewel-like memory.

My senses are keen, my third eye opens and the
Goddess awakens.

The large ones like hulking shadows, loom and surround
me, their trunks touch me tenderly, my sisters have
recognized me.

Vultures dot the sky, my brothers are patient
my Beloved is pleased and I am once again
the Jaguar Woman
returned.

The Great Blue Heron spreads his wings like the sheltering sky.

I walk on fire. I walk on the river of my reflection.


ii.

well, so much for wanting to write something that isn't hard-edged,
I keep thinking I'm a stone, being worn away by a slow-moving river
flowing
over and around me, eons passing

just passing my time, until the great stone God wills to release the fire
inside me, and in one great burst of awareness, I shatter
and the oceans of the world will run clear from all the blood
that sacrificed the vigilant night

iii.

but no, you have to write something that catches my eye and rubs my legs
like two tinder sticks and I catch the holy wrath of poetic fire
ablaze,
only a warrior poet who has died a thousand times in the hands of her own poems
can dance inside the fire while burning with the words
of love,
unaffected
enough.