'The wound is the place where the Light enters you ... '
this new reality
for ten days together
closed in the Possum's Pouch
it is warm and dark
and we work to find the light
this altered landscape
the sky is filled with paper stars
silver and tinsel constellations
we attempt to chart our course
you lead with your smile
pure and bright
i am thinking of Frida & the Light
in ways her body could not
and a spirit that plaster could not constrict
what will this wound make of you
what gift will you make of this wound ...
your small hand in mine as you cry in the night
repeating the mantra
|Frida Kahlo painting from her bed|
Anything you loose comes around in another form ... '