I.
I am the golden light unfolding,
holding the first seed of becoming.
I am the green bough unraveled,
the curves of flesh that blur
Into the trunks of trees, and my hair
Is tangled in the forest’s weave.
Stars have fallen all around me,
But I am still and present:
Never leaving, ever kneeling,
My head bowed in blessing,
My arms wrapped in prayer.
For I will be here
When forests forget selves,
And selves forget forests,
And darkness is broken into Light.
Milmeray, 2012
