Numina—
I call to her,
she is born—
Numina:
The Formless into Form—
The Eye within the Storm—
The ocean’s deepest longing,
The grit that shapes the pearl
The pearl that makes the oyster
A joy to behold.
As Numina
We stand fierce & loving
One foot in the fire
One foot in cold ashes
Forever ascending,
eternally subsiding.
Into Autumn’s well
I dip my chalice
and I drink deep.
Leaves crumble in my mouth.
I taste ancient blood
a cold, wet, bitter tang
& a sense of foreboding.
What did I dare
come here
to do?
I steep deep
in subaqueous dreams
wriggling like a bubble
from the bottom of a pot
up, up,
one with the water yet
jostling to break
a stalwart skyward swim,
bouncing to the brim
Until I undertake
to manifest my own wake
Tumbling through the process
of my own self-birth
(c) Summer Blake 2019
It is time to reweave the dream.
To unweave false ends
and false realities
to welcome new stories.
To let the true light shine
Unceasing in its All-Glory.