To be aware of the silence can become pain for earthly [wo]man. But in the deepening silence there grows and ripens what [wo]man speaks to the stars.~Rudolf Steiner
In these starlit skies I watch the darkness
teeming, boiling to refine all that shapes
me as a woman. My past a stark mess
dreaming, toiling to define what escapes
my filters. We are trained quite brutally
not to see, to tell lies, yet still knowing
our sacred container beautifully
transmutes—frugal and precise winnowing—
turning the bruises into works of art.
My pure intentions keep me breathing here
Just like a birth, these are labor pains, heart
strong, I gasp and I surrender. All clear.