THE WOMEN gather under the trees.
They bring gifts, food, and chairs.
They are gypsies and queens, oracles, saints,
Jezebels and jesters, healers, sages, and warriors.
And when the circle is complete, the magic begins.
Shyly, with dainty movements, they take turns,
shifting aside their robes to expose
missing limbs and gaping wounds.
The others gather close and peer, heads cocked,
eyes straining, and they chant,
"That is lovely, that is good,"
and the wounds stop weeping,
and they melt into scars,
silvery and light and beautiful.
Then the women lean back and laugh,
and they stretch, sensual and fierce,
like cats in the sun.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Words of Wisdom from a Bird

You need to move often.
You must travel light.
If you sense danger
be quick to take flight.

Eat what you find.
Drink when you can,
and when the winds change,
just make a new plan.

Sing every day.
Sing your own song.
Make your voice heard.
It will help make you strong.

Keep your nest simple.
Make your life plain.
Fly toward the good things.
Fly away from the pain.

Take care of your children.
Just do your best,
and when the time comes,
push them out of your nest.

The world is a good place.
Your friends hold you dear,
so stretch out your wings
and soar without fear.
         --Sappho

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