And I endure, face forward
into steely storms of bracing
whiplash crystal raindrops.
Whirlwind tempests,
tendrils, tongues,
tempos swirling in,
they ride and run like tides.
Face to face I stand in place
free in myself but chained to me.
And I endure, face forward.
Shall I dance,
invited to Solstice
morphing and spin,
silky and gushing
wet my heart essence
to caress this creature?
Encase and bury her
inside a tomb
of rest, a womb
of becoming?
Every blow,
every storm
strips me clean,
disappears me,
reveals me
Transforms me,
calls me,
uncoccoons me
Until I endure,
face forward.

“Encase and bury her
inside a tomb of rest,
A womb of becoming?”
❤