Cloak

the darkness i shed…
she is the snake’s skin,
keeping me warm.

misunderstood.

but, in nights
when sheets laid cold,
and only ghosts
trace my skin,

she is the comforting cloak.

joining woven sisters
through time.

who weave.
and bleed.
and ache.

sewing with needles,
left in chests.

and when desolate frosts
teethe my bare soles,

it is she who lets me in
and nurse me, mend.

with gentle gestures,
covering holes
between my ribs.

keeping frigid setting in.

strength grows,
and is restored.

nursed by milk
of mother’s tend,

kept close,
and held,
nearer to her breast.

without scorn
or scold.

a safe place
to hide and rest,
this weary crown.

new life-blood,
nourished,

i emerge again.

in time
for golden harvests.

warm aired nights and
fresh honey wine kisses,

a drought season thirst.
is quenched.

citrine beverage taste,
less bitter.

for renewed,
i am sweet again.

lips, alike to saccharine.

taste the fruits
we’ve fest this eve.

stain crimson on
our linen frocks.

the seeds,
imprint their deed.

but as we live by cycles.

summers end.

as sand with time,
through our fingers
passes through.

predicted,
as our season’s change.

and our moon,
right as she wanes.

we are bare once more.

stripped,
like leaves from trees.

bed of downy feathers
turns to stone.

now,
the shadows beckon,

whisper, in my ear

‘come back to our cloak’.

and these pricked fingers
they will stitch

new threads,
pieces, making whole.

together.

we will keep us warm.

we’ll share our heat and mead.

bound by shedding blood,
and ocean caressed tears.

earth, embrace our bones,

a welcome to us,
home.

by the tides
we burn our pyre.

dead wood and salted grain.

turn past to glass

torch sand, and beckon

‘turn the wheel again’.

the stars we greet
are our eyes.

Join us

watching for our sister
as we phase into the night.

we will keep her safe.

’til she rejoins the light.

and in requite,
she passes on our cloak.