Thursday, June 23, 2016


I think I would have liked being
a Christian if Jesus had been Jesusa.
It would have made more sense.  
Giving birth, new life and resurrection.
Demeter pining for lost Persephone.
Mother earth bursting to life in the Spring 
and shedding her leaves in the fall.
The moon always being female with her monthly cycles.
Uterine walls swelling with nurturing blood
then bleeding to prepare the way for a new cycle to begin.
Ever ready for new life to be reborn.
I think that’s why I watch the moon more religiously 
than I read the Bible.
Try to learn from her ease with change.
The way she surrenders the reflection of her body
to a fluid motion of waxing and waning.
Never the same two nights in a row.
Instead, a slow transition between loss and new growth.
No attachment to any one phase.
Her identity dissolved in a timeless rhythm. 
Waves on the ocean.
Kali’s dance of destruction.
The wearing down mountains and thrusting them up again from the depths.
The earth breathes her eternal song.
You can hear it pounding in your chest
if you listen closely.

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