Full Moon

Barefoot; each step sinking in mud
splashes of rain marry with
crimson drops in a puddle
of stormed waves
from an opened heaven

She kneels to the ground
simultaneously glancing
left, right, behind
cheeks blushed, her soul falling
as teardrops - her lowest ebb.

Ripping her cotton dress
she replaces blood soaked rags -
it’s been six days.

This war within herself
at only twelve years of age

Every nineteen days
her body a vessel; a period
of girlhood abruptly ends,
womanhood demurred.

Each & every month
persecuted;
Jesus nailed to a cross.

Amidst war-torn streets
fleeing torched homes
civil war displacing
orphaned sisters –
*****.
As militants continue to
prevail over children’s
innocence

Washing her sin away
red body fluids disperse
in mud, rain, water, soil -
her reflection lost
alongside any remaining dignity

On those same knees
Badriyyah pleads with God
to no longer bring forth
the fertility of conception
each cursed month.

Congolese civil wars
scraped away landscapes
Mother Nature
scraped away internal walls

& month after month
after month after month
this period endures
& a child of the night
stays hidden from sight.

© Sia Jane

When I was a boy I would ride my bike
Down through the Emerald Hillsides
Rich with Oaken Hard wood trees
To Horse Shoe Bend I'd ride

And catch the old Stage coach road
Through the Hollow, following the Creek
To a famous Brook Trout Fishing Site
But always I would find, Fish wasn't on my mind

I'd cut down through Farmers Pasture
To the Path up the Hillside, winding through
A Verdant View of Nettles, Brush and Wild Strawberries
I'd break free of this to a limestone bluff with 13 Water Caves

In a crack in the Wall of the Bluff I found
Ancient Snail Fossil as big as my own Hand
A Treasure of The Land, the crack led to the top
And the Island in the Sky, A Column of Stone*

Bridged by a branch and Broken Rocks
Standing Alone was an Island of Stone
With Grass and a single Cedar Tree
It Broke through the tree tops

A pristine view of Azure Blue, white clouds
A fresh Spring fed And winding Creek bed With
A Valley and rows of hills in Emerald tree Shroud
And circling the updrafts Was a Pair of Arctic Hawks

By laying Still in Practiced skill The hawk would circle Down
A wonder at what this thing he saw he would swoop down
In so close I could have touched him , with a 3 Foot Wing Span
When he flew by I would catch his eye and we made a connection

Some would say that this is a dream, but its true I declare to you
From the burden of my childhood I felt safe above trees in the Air
With my life From all the Ugly Bullying, this was my Sanctuary
*As just a boy I realised, in the woods and the Forest I was Free