Let the glimmering star of imagination,
openly radiant in the sky of our night,
rain down silvery, reconciling flowers,
infinite fall of mercies
illuminating our bodies,
dissolving our boundaries,
seeding our hearts;
rooting, branching, twining,
weaving a canopy of forgiving leaves
breathing over all the earth:
one great glowing tree of being.
~Sherri Rose Walker, We’Moon
The wind is blowing
from a new center;
its breath, spiced and golden,
stirs the sistrum trees
to sound their invocations.
A grave and radiant presence,
unknown in this, or any other world,
in now arising.
She is green and gold and scarlet,
she is russet and rose,
cinnabar and aquamarine,
she is black and comely.
Her hue, verdant body is fragrant,
birds alight
in the labyrinth of her hair;
in one hand is flame,
in the other, a vessel
scored with lightning cracks.
She is mountain and throne,
singing music heard only by the third ear.
All the leaves drink her,
the sky draws near.
She has come to offer us
our lives.
~Sherri Rose-Walker, We’Moon
photo by: John Edwards
Mid-Level-Culture 