It feels so fiercely good
to be free, to be found
in the reds and swirls
and sweats of my sisters
wise and strong
and wild and welded together
in the midst of bare trees
and empty pots
and dusty dirt.
We are living flesh,
we are alive and well!
We send the puppets of clay
back to the pile
from which they fell,
and now so impotently they yell.
My sisters strong
receive me, brood over me,
warm me, inspire and inform me,
challenge, elevate me!
Here
in the dust
in the wind
present and uncontained
by anything
except living flesh.