A day fallen from my hands
losing time
not knowing where to
when just before I had been a body atop two stable feet
planted on the soft ground, covered in juniper leaves

From a cloth bag
you placed
a pushing-tool in my hand
a small alien object, a sharp walnut, a thought expanding
it asked me to consider
the pain that can be bathed in endlessly
the stone door lifted too easily
the wilting of everything
the veil of hideous ego
which allows me only so far

I am ill equipped
tender, exhausted by years of effort
I cry for dullness and pull her over my eyes
Protect me from my own habit
of tying knots and shredding paper
I am hungry for the honing of energy with purpose
I seek to create and
I am emptied out

Your lost symbol
heavy hammer
dropped anchor in my center.

I entered this time through a curved bow
a skinny young tree bent over
in a forest
on an island
I called it my doorway and when I moved through it, all was changed

dullness leave me now, let me call other names
let me conjure the exit
let me take a thin blade and slice the grey cloth

now I cast my doorway
I draw my sanctuary
it’s my duty to enter the in-between space

and when I step out to face the mountain
and the air is distant
and my feet are wrapped in plastic
and my eyes are tiny dark bowls
I ask my silver sister
to let me absorb her
and as always she responds, exactly this:

You are the creator and the created
the eyes and the blindfold
the hand that holds the heart