Don’t Hold My Hand: A deep poetic soul search

Down, down…I’m goin down

Stay and play! say the flighty feathered ones.
They don’t know how deep I need to go
to find my soul.

Will you hold my hand?
Let me go down, deep, into the belly
into the underside, the earthwomb,
the plutonic caverns glowing with alchemical fire.
Let me be transformed.

Maybe I changed my mind.
don’t hold my hand.
Let me go. If I need you I’ll call.
My soul will vibrate for you, and you’ll come, when I most need you.

But maybe I don’t need you.
Maybe I’m already whole.
The sun emerges to agree — I already am.

Kiss my cheeks sweetly
cradle my body in your grooves.
I caress your roots, unafraid to give my whole weight,
to explore, to make a mess of myself.
Your curves and crevices mirror my erotic nature.
My desires come alive in your natural, messy complexity.
My soul begins to seethe in ecstasy as
I travel down, plunging into the moist earth.
Into the unknown.

I come alive.

I feel the drumbeat in my belly.

The raw impulse behind a scream
curdles in my throat.

The noise I let out is too sweet.
Kali is missing.

She wants to be reborn.
So I must go down
to meet her.

Don’t hold my hand.

 

(Written 2/27/2014, on Albany Hill)

 

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