Mother Turtle

Turtle shifts
--shudders--
in the Night,
seeks Balance
and warmth
within the Light;
I wander
--I heal--
her ravaged Shell:
my Path
spun fragile
tween Heaven and Hell.

Old-crone Turtle
sits in the Sun
upon an ancient Stone,
wearing a Shawl
of mossy lace,
calling to Her Own:
an ancient Voice
of vibrant Light
resounds through kindred souls...
and I am drawn
within Her space
to be as was foretold.

Turning relentless' upon the Wheel,
the Turtle reviews the Sky...
re-aligning herself with ancient Stars,
waiting on Spirit's reply.

This day is like no other,
and I am changed as well -
careful where I place my feet
upon the Turtle's shell;
as yet, the fear still lingers
to interfere with me,
to cause my feet to stumble,
to not say what I mean;
but still, each new beginning
allows another chance
to trust life as it happens:
to dare to fly and dance.