Category: Mirrors

Colors Of

I will
show you
the colors of desire.
lips parted, breathing in
the fire of your skin.

I will feed your soul
with the scent of passion
honey covered hands
soothing shadows,
offering eyes of deepest flame.

I will taste your breath
teasing my skin,
touching my dreams
creating screaming storms
etched into memory

I will teach you
for the songs of touch
for the hunger of words whispered
for the sighs of aching fullness

I will hear you
crying out in the moondark night
offering surrender
to the passion you create.
it belongs, not to me,
but to you.

Elemental Calling

Moonlit night flying,
soaring spinning
weaving amongst clouds
owl, Sister of the feathered wing
I call you
to this place between the worlds.

Fireborn Goddess,
I stand before you
charred singing spirit
feeling, feeding the flames
born in time out of mind.

Wet Ocean Mother,
you of the wild and exhaulting dance
surging breaking waves
craving, ecstatic,
bringing me the fierceness of lunacy.
Join me in this circle.

Ancient Serpent Mother
I touch your Earth
beneath a dream draped Oak,
my life rooted to your calling
shedding skin and self.
The circle is cast.


What holds us in the still center of the storm,
what force drowns our voices
when we scream our desires
into the void
we know,
how to change
our lives, our world, our selves
this hurricane of fear
spiraling winds,
possible regret
will it forever imprison us
where is our courage to fly,
to risk the unknown eternity
to become who we are

when will we dare
to be free, to taste truth
to love beyond fear


see your face in the leaves outside my window

emerging in the green

clearer in the autumn twilight colors

Those ever present eyes see through my skin

the choice (would I have made it ?)

removed from me

I surrender to their knowing

speaking without fear

I struggle, hearing my own voice

unfamiliar sound, unasked thought

who is it that speaks

who will be here tomorrow

Memory dances thru the leaves

a gust of color floats then falls

it hurts to look

reds that torture and taunt

amber gold of promise

"When ?"

I whisper to the eyes that see my soul

reaching thru the ice glass boundary

for that part of me which lives in the leaves

outside my window


Each morning I weep ashes
taste the fire of injustice that no amount of water
washes away. I face in the mirror
a woman who looks unfamiliar, haunted
by shapeshifting images forming and reforming
in the smoke of her dreams. I touch
her face in the cool glass, wonder
if those scars, burns, and wounds
could be healed by magic
herbs and teas and tinctures,
but she would never allow it.

I brush nightmares from my hair
pulling and ripping tangled visions
until the sting of tears blurs my outline
and I see only color.

After hot bitter coffee
and a breakfast companion who
wears oatmeal as a hat
smiles with the angelic innocence
of love and trust
I begin again
to challenge this world
one fear at a time.