The Magic Lives in Human Connection

How Coralus Feels to Me

Sometimes

we stand next to

the awakening,

possibility pressed in close,

rubbing shoulders

with us

in a room of women and folks

who

embrace

being

new,

being new again,

and yet again,

who

wrestle in the present

with the past

and the future

before gathering

the intersections of time

and each other

into our arms

right now

with a kiss,

who

create all varieties of

that which blesses –

so many gardens,

wild, cultured

planted, perennial,

whole fields of wheat,

and terraced hillsides of rice

(because we will welcome all

who

know how to nurture and grow).

We rub the seeds

gently and roughly

between our collective fingers,

creating friction to assist

a rupture in the coat,

then a testing of first air,

the radicle heart taking root,

and the embryonic

of her eternal potential

sprouting.

Oh, we gasp,

enamoured of even the tiniest

luminescent green.

I wonder,

what

is

wanted

for more of this?

Just another sip of

the water,

another deep drink

of the brave,

please,

and thank you.

lee alex tracie