Her steam seeps through cracks beneath my feet.
I feel her heat, her presence, her obsidian self.
a loosening, a spiraling,
a channel of new growth, rebirth,
My spirit cliff
-- sharply God-carved --
caves to ocean depths below.
A loosening, unfolding fire!
She is my past, my future,
my holy present:
Middle earth breaking free —-
Creation from nothing,
Some parts of her harden, while the
rest widen my pulse.
my breath, my spirit…
She rolls over edges,
boiling to meet her destiny:
the wet Goddess.
fickle and eager for embrace.
It is made holy:
This is a white lucid awakening; an archaic fire of no-time kind;
a river of rock; a molten prayer resounding,
a coming into one’s own and out of one’s unknown.
She moves me ever forward, deeper,
a silent prayer emerges.
Waves encompass her,
joining her in glorious exuberance.
She is met and made whole, solid.
Birth of a brand new earth:
less than a second old…
Yet she has shifted my consciousness
into no time,
How magnified is this now,