Enough said. I bow down to the awesomeness that is Ursula.
Wishing bones crackle
in flames of sinew.
A dripdrop of hope
down the darkness of the well –
And I haul up my buckets
day after day.
Memory stacks up
the time under my feet.
We are falling through futures,
And I follow the first family home
to the long room that’s come
full circling here.
This feasting goes on,
the beer is on tap,
we are singing the sweet ones –
home again, down again –
as we are all born, in the fire of life.
The fox says
have you heard the wasp?
The wasp who stings and bites the herd,
who takes the caterpillar to her nest
to feast her wasplings on the dead.
Who flies headstrong into the wind,
her voice a song that’s barely there,
that calls the highest down to ground
and names each by their truest name.
She, warrior queen, huntress alone,
knows nothing is less than, and nothing is more.
From Shakey Graves Lovin’ audiotree!