Honoring Pause from Urgency

Tick…. tock….. tock of the clock, the bells,
chiming along inside my urgency, latency,
where I dwell,
there are old wounds now to dispel.

The bells sing a discernible, yet obscure, song.
Normalcy impossible, so much lost, species extinct and the virus… prolonged.

Breath in the air, humid Summer approaching.
She comes as she’s called, without summons, without speaking.
A tiny creature inside beats a drum without patience,
signaling change, a drip, a salience.

So many irons in so many fires, my hearth is full
The breeze ushers me Westward, a few miles and storms
Lie between this meadow and that one, I feel the pull
Yes, grass is greener where the grey fox runs and wild bees swarm

I carry with me a satchel of mystic notions
The holster of privileged motion
The stowaway, grieving, choosing new potions
What was real is gone with yesterday,
a new truth, hinging on veracious devotion.

Allegiance to soil, the trees, the water
playful smiles, inherited wisdom and daughters
Gathering the flowers like the maker gathers supplies
Honoring the magic of justice, acceptance and thick thighs.

We tread a new path, regeneration, wholesome good
drink in rainwater, carry it, build fires, chop wood.
Uphold your neighbor, sanctity for the distressed.
In this tide, this time, ingress of a woman, to profess

The mighty stars will hold you as the robin sings
the solid ground will lift you as the roots of trees spring
out of the ground, created by time
and bless your soul, as the gathering bells chime.