A Gift in the Making
Updated: Jan 26
Last night I surrendered
Allowed my fierce love to rise
Furious, bright, dangerous.
Sleep dared not approach;
hiding; elusive at the edges.
A tempestuous heart,
rattling the doors and windows.
Mirrored by leaves and branches
torn by winds, pulled by the moon.
Trembling, shaken, wild.
Deer shifted in their curved beds.
Fox stopped in his tracks; one paw raised.
Badger lifted a muddy snout to listen.
Owls, perched in the tallest sycamore
questioning: which which which whoooooo?
Fierce, like rage. But no anger
ever caused the stars to shudder
in their radiance.
No fury could illuminate
the hidden places quite like this.
This love raises mountains. Shifts glaciers.
Alters the course of rivers. Turns back oceans.
Its primal song echoes into far space
where meteors alter their course
to come closer and bear witness.
Whilst, you, my love
sleep like a great, brown bear.
The slumber of the beautiful.
The satisfied. The loved.
So tender in your dreaming.
I hold a secret at my core
that gives me steadfastness
in the midst of this uprising.
This turbulence is a gift in the making
and I am the only one who knows.
(c) Kate Gold November 2019