we rise

i’m reaching for the dead
wispy trailings of finger traced youth
smoky horizons
dead-end generations
i’m reaching for substance
foul breathed morning realities
tangible crucifixions
some woody heady scent
that leads me to the alter
the alter of her masthead
her womynhood, her holy land
the safehold of societal constraints
pulls the skirt fabric
tears her sheer amour to ankles
chained and shackled to sunsets
sun rises
she rises
sun sets
she does not rest
kneeling on summer dirt
gravel skin
embedded in the bedrock
heaven bound, haven bound
hands, earthy lunar lodestars
explore and divide
equate motion and divulge
her warmest cavities
her slick secrets
were sung to the stars
only audiences
and i recapture movement
with echoes
burning embers of previous
revelations
prior battles reverberate in all
these consonants
all these syllables
and and now
morphing into stoic stone
buried in the mother
she begins the search again