Going on a rock tour
I'll leave you with the beats
in the ground.

Still, I will play for the crowd
Like I know what I am doing.

On return
Will I be home
Or was no one listening?

Cowering in corners
On lead guitar
And solo drums

The moon did me a favor today

It didn't drag me down.

It made me look up.

Where else is future found?

Besides our
Hearts and Minds.

In the sky where you will find Birds.

And wings
With golden strings

Threading

An imperfect map.

I'm still looking up.

Whatever I didn't give you

that you needed
that
. .   I
am sorrowful for.

I thought I was limitless
    in my charity and resources.

It is obvious
not
to be so.

It was all I had.

If ever I grow small
Consider me still useful
Uncrippled color

There is a fragrance
Remembered in its bloom time
Lilac yet made whole

Out of the darkness
I claw and rise to see
There is a forest inside.
The green surrounds me.
The sun's rays splatter
Me awake to my open body.
I let in the light
I lean into the forest
With the trees holding me up
- as I tilt to fall
Reinforcing my stand I forgot
- I was a part of.

The green has grown so strong
Like the blood that sweeps away
Inside of me to a rivers tune.
I don't want to leave this place,
Fearing it will be taken beyond
Or that it was never mine.
Reinventing this woodland
That has always been inside.
The pine, the wind through the branches, the owl winks.
It has always been here with me
Compelled to germinate
Waiting for my return.
I lift up my head and the sky
- Is so blue.

A mountain from a range,
Of such everlasting granite.
Carved over ages,
Shook from under footing
Like statues who will
Not wilt or crumble
Only to manifest
Into the space around it
Reminding me that as weak
As I feel, Inside of me is a similar
Persistence that won't be moved
By the capricious whim of man and imbecilic masses who follow.
I will seize your sharp shank and excavators trying to make me into something I am not.
I am a woman with equal rights
And dignity far beyond your pompous attempts to roil this robust range down. Your false statues will crumble when the mirror knocks at your midnight door. Here, look at yourself.