Eternal Chao

 
 
 
 
 
Eternal rumination through
tangled escapades.
Tarry to laze treetop.  Respite a nonce
to enjoy the adventure.
Then, stationed in caverns of woe
for a decade or so.
No dragons nor maidens have I,
no trade in answers.
Conveyed by sky,
falling as I yearn to
through luminous translucence,
layers gorgeously etched.
Glorious.
Feathered and free.
Reassurance, Earth’s embrace firm, gentle.
I tell the ache of ages:
break out, grow
angelic arms.  Malleable,
able to reach each troubled
artery.  Ease brittle anger,
dissipate insanity.
I am Mother, Daughter, Holy Crone.
I am eternally
my own.
.
.
.

 

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