Dancing with the great mother.

Smooth & cool in my hands.
I am inspired & intimidated.

Older than mankind,
I beckon her to conform to my will.

But she is composed of the ages,
she has a will of her own.

The ancients began this dance so many millennia ago,
caressing the great mother,
they implored her as they kneaded and shaped her to meet their needs.

As they created from her bosom,
figures of worship and vessels of service.

And then they waited for her answer
as they passed her through the fire.

Would their labors end as shattered fragments lying in the ash?
Or would she bless them with a token of their dance together?

And so I join the dance started so long ago,
caressing the great mother,
imploring her as I knead & shape her to meet my needs.

Creating from her bosom,
figures of worship & vessels of service.

The ancients hands become my hands and my hands become theirs.
We become one in our dance with the great mother.

And they wait with me
as I pass her through the fire.

Watching to see if she has left me with shattered fragments,
or a token of our dance together.

REB

Faith...

This is a tribute to the daughter we lost "in utero". It is a wound that periodically has to be reopened as it never is truly healed. Her name is Faith.

I remember the very first time I gazed upon your face
Such serenity, such peacefulness, of one filled so full of grace

I remember your hands & feet, perfect in every way
so tiny & yet so wonderful in all of their detail

I remember your soft, soft skin,
So fragile it might break at my lightest touch

I remember the floor that day
wet from all the tears that fell upon it

I remember the cries I heard
from the woman that I love and her friends

I remember the broken apologies of the physician
as he repeatedly said "I am so sorry that you have to go through this"

I remember taking you home
so that your siblings could see you there

I remember holding you
with just my right hand

as I took the final look
of your journey to our land

I remember laying you
in the box of oak I'd made

I remember closing it
and locking down the latch

The ground was slightly moist that day
as my shovel pierced the ground

The grass must have wept with us
as it tasted our tears

I remember my heart breaking
as I covered up your grave

I remember being told not to grieve too much
after all you never really lived

I don't know if I will recognize you
when I leave this place for good

But if you see me there one day
please tell me all the things you've done

I'll tell you a little of myself
and gently hold your hand.

REB

When she sleeps at night......

I wrote this many years ago, I like it and don't want to lose it.

an infectious laugh
an impish grin

a funfilled life
an untimely end

when she sleeps at night
she dreams of him

the yellow haired boy with suntouched skin

she longs to watch him
play with friends

she longs to smell
his sweaty hair again

when she sleeps at night
she dreams of him

the yellow haired boy with suntouched skin

her stoney ears
still hear his laugh

Her weary eyes
still see his grin

when she sleeps at night
and dreams of him

that yellow haired boy with suntouched skin.

REB