The blue steel grey of the day giving birth to the night sky 

slowly 

by degrees, the sucking of the light from the place, 

a privacy of time and space 

 

time out of time

place and beingness ringing like a bell

the hammer knocking a resonance through the dusk

 

stirring of words and images, 

scattering of pollen

Meanings shifting and meeting, 

threads crossing and parting, 

paring down, 

distilling, 

washing pigment to its most vivid concentrate 

 

I look at the breast plate mounted on the wall. 

The gold fabric hanging over and around 

the gold of the beeswax - that ancient smell of richness and plenty

 

and I ache

for this gold shell marked for Yoruk 

 

a cover 

the sleeve of a book

the hull of a ship - ready to withstand blows. 

The cast of a body: real, warm, 

soft and curved as a woman is 

 

cross my heart 

shield me

 

But ready to be removed

shelled and uncovered 

 

beeswax and canvas 

an oil cloth

 

breaking the waves, and taking on water 

lying discarded on the lake’s edge with a heap of land clothes

 

—

 

The clifftop place with gentle, close-cropped grass, soft underfoot.

 

I watch the Sun on the sea. Those caressing waves. That digital crystal-faceted glitter and constant change.

Yoruk hands me a grey bundle. I take and twist creamy golden fabric, 

strong ropelike, and form a circle 

to wear around the head 

or waist 

 

a dark portal, the waterfall in the woods, but now, no fear - I swim under and into the dark body of the land

 

I am Yoruk, strong, animal,

A sense of fur, ears twitching 

 

natural - in my nature -

climbing easily up tree roots that meet the edge of my still pool, deep in the woods.

climbing easily, big and strong

well equipped with belt, cloak and bundles

 

We dance, Yoruk and I: freely

Slowly sharing 

giving and taking 

sex is there, good attraction 

belonging, 

but the dance continues. I am held on their lap in their big arms, safe - desired and desiring 

dancing together is responsive and powerful 

no self-consciousness
Both following an inner guide, our intuition 

moves are made to each other 

from each other

 

I took breaths, deep and nourishing, smoke and forest, clear and strong. 

I wore my fur, my skin,

 my breasts and heart alive to touch. 

 

I wore the gear of a traveller 

of one prepared to take care of things 

to bring what’s needed 

to be self-contained, 

 

beauty and calm 

excitement and fear, 

the hum of aliveness 

 

—-

today, I felt that larger than life Bodhisattva held the essence of Yoruk: this comfort of their size 

and carved to show mercy, to be a mother goddess

 

The strength and ease of him / her / me,

 just natural and capable, 

climbing, dancing, swimming, 

the lithe animal-authenticity of movement 

 

 the pose of being ready to go if needed -

One foot in each world. 

 

Sometimes, moving through my day

 I felt the strong column of my back, my sure movement

my flexibility with energy 

patient to try and match it to others 

to be there, 

no pushing, no pulling. 

 

Sometimes I felt the comfort of the larger figure standing over me, compassionate, caring, protective 

 

me: small 

me: okay in myself,  in this care

 

———

 

To carry the wound in the Heartwood 

to meet others, clear eyed,

no demands 

 

to hear them 

to see them 

real meetings - no mergings 

Eye to eye

Being to being

 

My Midsummer fire at the sea’s edge,

waiting for the others

The Sun like a hand on my back 

 

I have everything I need in that moment

 

proving this to myself and living the knowing 

this is the way back

 

The belt, 

the knife, 

the fire, 

the swim, 

the solitude