It began with a promise to honor the deeper calling from my core A blood sacrifice and an inking into my skin that commitment I moved into ceremony, I called witnesses around me, I called women to hold me. A strength and new knowing began to become me, I had such hopes And then heartbreak tore the seasons to pieces. No Spring or Summer but eclipses and a celibacy like an insult to my loud fertility The seasons all dark, all cold and all turned inward A long winter, untouched An initiation not into motherhood as I hoped, but into shadow and grief and loss I bent into work, months passed, and work bent my back, so much forgotten. I wish to bow deeply in gratitude to the dreamer To offer prayers and tears of such sweet sorrow for the silent, unseen weaving of dreams into truths deeper than comprehension and consciousness. Ebbing and flowing directly from Mysterious Source Nurturing like a mother, ravaging like a beast. Underneath this shroud, enshrined, dreams resurr