Seed in my hand

There is a woman who jumped into the volcano and came out on the other side

And the ice of the other world sealed the molten on her brow

Where is she now

fingers brushing over leaves in a fern filled forest

Where did she go

Hiding as dew in the hapu’u

Cradled by earth she rests

And empty handed is the only way

giving hands the space they need

to think, to feel, to nurture

without distraction

Today

I leapt into eternal slumber

in the silky soil damp

And awoke uncomplicated

blanketed

with a seed in my hand.

 

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