Dreaming a Life into Being

Perched like an apprentice owl
on a contemplative birch bench
in a secret riverine alcove,
she closes her eyes,
peering into the abyss within,
seeking an image, a symbol,
to guide her on her quest.

In her mind’s eye
the purple mist conjures visions
of a luminous swan,
gliding with self-possessed tranquility.
Recognizing her future-reflection,
she ponders the ugly-duckling,
buried fathoms deep
and wills the wounded-one
to surrender, dissolve, unravel,
that she may be resurrected, re-woven;
to die to identity and be re-born to eternity.

In the marsh-waters of the subconscious,
the winged-one navigates the labyrinth in primordial darkness,
as roots reach down-deep where soil is blackest,
to be nurtured by the soul-waters of life.

Our ‘Lady of the Lake’
purifies and prepares
among the weeds, reeds, and grasses.
She is deep within the mystery:
nesting, incubating, silently gestating her destiny,
and dreaming a life into being.