take hold of this invitation
to join with those who have waited
to feel your presence nearer to them
than you are to us:
those of us who have craved and curved,
felt in contempt and cursed,
forgotten and fell
from the hem of your apron;
those who gathered, like chicks,
like bawling calves, like geese
drawn by your leavings,
like fragments of shells
burst away and falling sharply
into the petrified shapes of your steps;
we, who hove over your going away, now,
that is shaped by a greater hand
that no one has control over
for once in your life, take a hand
that will lift you from this hurt,
will carry you holy
in spite of yourself and us
there is no rally left, your troops
stand guard to your throning:
Queen of our beginnings,
reach and take this succor that is offered,
your battle is over on this ground
and everything you ever thought you needed
wants to curve to your palm
we let go of our cling and bring
back, in order to free your hands
and heart, and reason for holding on:
look, there are those you have longed for
waiting to greet you ~ hear them beckon
and want you more than we ever could have
in our darkest needy hours
Author notes
As I write through the night, she is leaving us: Some of us are being left, again!
It may be that she has already taken that invite, as I post this, for the gathering call has been made an hour ago. I can do nothing but write, just at this moment while waiting for that final call.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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"...your battle is over on this ground
and everything you ever thought you needed
wants to curve to your palm..."
yes, Beauty...yes. Such words of strength and wisdom. We are here standing vigil, surrounding, holding you upright and strong... as sisters do.
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Tender, exquisite and ever so loving, so knowing. Prayers are being offered by all, my Sister. 
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This is very heartfelt, and something I just recently wrote about. Peace be with you and yours.
Vicki
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