Pachamama (Mother Earth) Song
We dwell in her arms, within this love, Lover of the Universe
I am a woman of the mountains.
You are standing on my jawbone
or hairline, and see my body
as sunrise sheeted
muscles of rock.
I am sure of myself
yet this morning
when I awoke
I glanced down
to see the moon,
full and mysterious
as a locket,
shining orb upon my chest.
Perhaps it was wind
in the trees or my eyelashes,
but I saw it begin to move above me,
rhythmical, the thoughts
of a favorite lover.
I was helpless.
It felt like a weighted memory.
I had just left
farmland in a dream.
I stretched,
the morning soared
into Canadian geese
so small now they are black and white shards
over a city--
and saw it slip,
slip below my ribs,
a flash across snow smattered ranges, touching me,
touching, then roll so quickly
out beyond the valley to the west.
We dwell in her arms, within this love, Lover of the Universe
I am a woman of the mountains.
You are standing on my jawbone
or hairline, and see my body
as sunrise sheeted
muscles of rock.
I am sure of myself
yet this morning
when I awoke
I glanced down
to see the moon,
full and mysterious
as a locket,
shining orb upon my chest.
Perhaps it was wind
in the trees or my eyelashes,
but I saw it begin to move above me,
rhythmical, the thoughts
of a favorite lover.
I was helpless.
It felt like a weighted memory.
I had just left
farmland in a dream.
I stretched,
the morning soared
into Canadian geese
so small now they are black and white shards
over a city--
and saw it slip,
slip below my ribs,
a flash across snow smattered ranges, touching me,
touching, then roll so quickly
out beyond the valley to the west.
