My lips have been pinched by crisp New Zealand mists
And I long to be a seal bathing in voluminous vats of leathery seaweed
In an ocean that matches my heart in bitterness and storm.
The eagle whose eye is on me as I wind along the coast line
drifts with the same wind that curls my hair.
‘I’ve gone wild’ I say.
‘My travelling woman…’ he says.
‘Yes you have.
Yes you can’.
My Army of Me.
Calling gargantua boulder.
Calling brittle pine
smooth pebble and feather find.
Calling padded barefoot wildling
Calling winter and spring
Calling surface of the sea from the abyss
mountain crevices and caves
sticky stamen and hungry bee.
Calling earths name- Mother, Sister –
Stand around me
Walk with me
Breathe with me
Dance with me.
(Army of me)
Unite with me.
I know no other that understands the sharpening of teeth and the flexing of claws
The whirling circular effervescence
The erratic yet.con.stant.beat.
The watershed, the eruption and the soft kneeling
And the hope for a better tomorrow.
I am sore and I am weary.
But I am also hungry
Feed me. My gut is desiring.