Walking the mystical path
with practical feet
I delve in and record
swooping into depths
I cannot reach alone.
Led to the underworld
with pomegranate seeds
in my hand,
the promise of spring
pulls me back up
toward the sun.
Here I soak in the light
and deliver what my heart knows
No longer bound
to the fire and fury
of getting it right
I cradle what comes forth
and unleash it to the world.
Beckoned by the
call of the wild
this new territory
is fresh and free
radiant and humbling
soothing and sacred
as I tread lightly
to not disturb
new growth.
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