Rites of passage


The moon is a pale sliver

of the bloody morning sky

I feel the wistful spirits peering

from behind its silver skirt

               yearning for color         giving themselves names

whispering to be heard


please touch me Jesus

I need to know the surrender

of a compassionate man

before my proud body animal

births this new flesh



sunrise moon



photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/jdub1980/8366582629/”</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

10 responses

  1. There it is! You teased us with this one last night….did you not? Either that or I’m experiencing one of those time-displacements again….

    This is be-witch-ingly beautiful…
    Love “proud body animal”…


    • Thanks Gravity… but no tease. I decided when I was about 7 that I didn’t want to learn how.

      Things have just been percolating…you know how this is. And then last night the words were just there… Exhilarating!

      Gotta love this WP community.


    • We all come to this in our own ways. It would help if there weren’t so many contradictions thrown at the feminine in our world cultures for the sake of both genders. When confusion rains…everyone gets wet.


        • Culturally and in our religions it’s long long overdue. Perhaps this is what Jung had in mind when he developed the idea of the “animus”… the divine marriage of the masculine and feminine within.

          But thank you Geo Sans. I read this so beautifully in your poems.


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