Sister Wind sat with me for coffee
This dark morn
She fell upon me hard and cold
No whisper.....a cry, a howl
A cold slap which upon my cheek
did leave its mark
Red and ruddy....sharp, stinging
The hand print of my sister lingers
On my cheek trailed with tender
yet turmoiled tears
I asked her... "Why would you slap me when I am
down already, sister?"
Her reply, brisk and loud like a thunder clap
came to me sharply
"How else am I to blow your ills away?
I had to knock them out of your hand with my own hand."
I replied to her "thank you"
And I returned inside, grateful for her bravery
and for my moment of allowance of the cold truth
shouted to me in the wisdom of my
goddess sister WIND.
No comments:
Post a Comment