Atop the hill She watches;
She eats, sleeps, and stretches out into the ethers,
into the coolness of the night
and catches falling stars
sprinkles them with the moon’s dust
as moonlight strolls to the other side
the She eats them for breakfast.
Just before day breaks
and catches a glimpse of Her moving,
settling back into Her hilltop,
sandstone, red earthen clay throne
adorned with sage and scrub brush,
rabbits and ravens and rolling stones
moved about by winds and weather,
sunbathing and soaking in Silence and Space,
She looks across the endlessness of blue sky,
across to the other Deities,
and gives Them a knowing wink.
Keeping Their secrets.
She settles in to receive guests,
to listen to their hearts and feel their joys and sorrows
to hold them in Her field of gravity and heal them.
In Her majesty this Red Rock Madonna teaches balance.
There are no “what if”s or “if only you knew”s
only balance, and that requires letting go.
Feel balance in the Mystery,
that is, after all, what is left and when we find It
we usually adorn It with stuff that is familiar–feels safe,
keeps us in illusion–weighs us down, keeps us from Her until
we let it all go again to greet the Mystery once more,
to unfold an unfamiliar path a little farther this time.
~Purple Moose, from We’Moon