IV…Cycles

Bloodroot.

Buried in years long past.

Turning to ancestors to learn and re-discover.

With death comes life. 

Sap drips down, offering its nourishment and knowledge.

The mother knows, she always knows.

So, I listen as I imagine Claudia had listened, and I surrender with grace.

I am a daughter.

Made up of every woman.

I am untethered, except to the cycles of the sun and the moon.

Rising and setting.

I know you wish me well. And I know, I know there’s something more than this masquerade.

In the streets, in the sounds, whatever landscape I find myself in,

you’re still there.

With me always.