and wait there 
patiently, 
until the song 
that is your life 
falls into your own cupped hands 

If the mountains and the sea

Know how magical they are

take refuge in the animal

I take refuge in the leaf fall

I take refuge in the hidden

corners of silence

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories

Have you every heard the singing of the stars? The frogs have. "Frog Singing" by Jeannette Armstrong.

You had to have
been there to know such joy,
fear intermingled, my limbs
tingling: ancient, mute.

Each woman wise and wonderful, warm and wicked with wonder in their hearts and in their souls, winding their way to this moment, from all different points on this planet, the magic of convergence, in time and space.

The earth, the water, the fire, the air,
Returns, returns, returns, returns…

Let the ash turn to gold now, Mother,
For the children of the future.

I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leafunfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.

The well rising without sound,
the spring on a hillside,
the plowshare brimming through deep ground
everywhere in the field—

You gleam as you lie back

breathing like something

taken from water,a sea creature, except

for your two human legs

which tremble

and open

i am running into a new year
and the old years blow back
like a wind

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it