A storm was unleashed, when they came to me,
one no one could see, unless they knew
to look into my eyes behind
the speckled green of normalcy.
A sea was emptied when they arrived,
and I, I have been standing here bone dry,
all the while making sure my babies have enough water,
taking care that the bowls stay clean and nourishing.
The soft padding of sky has been thinning
like a cervix
until today, there is nothing left, no barrier,
no cushion, nothing to absorb the shock
of waking up everyday to this life that it turns out
is my only life.
Oh Source of Life where birth and death overlay –
may the channels fill with life-giving waters,
may the juices flow
like ink like tears like love flowing.
I am so thirsty.
May every trickle join to a torrent,
drowning me, drowning me,
only to wake up one last time,
for the first time,
for the newest day yet, better than ever,
ready set to soak it up and finally, finally
regain equilibrium between inner and outer.
May this empty hollow,
this abandoned shell,
one day be a sacred relic we pay homage to.
For this is what I know:
one day we will return to visit,
stronger and more humble still,
to honor this desert
of what we passed through,
of what moved through us.
Image: Desert Woman, JoAnna Almasude