Paradoxic
The healing moon of Iyar
Invites me to illustrate myself,
Taking the emerging fabric of creation
Replete with rising and setting suns
And the cycles of moonshine
With all the wafting and waning
Rejoicing and groaning
That comes with nature’s ways
And finding those ways inside of me,
Once again in tune with the earth’s comings and goings,
And Knowing, gratefully, that the angel Lahatiel,
Flame of God,
Continually maintains the pilot light that is my soul
Even as she bears me on her fragile web-like wings.
Vulnerably grounded,
I am
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