Lost in the Feminine

My feminine is a river
Wandering through dark caves
And rushing through rocky hillsides
She has borne witness and
existed as muse.

My feminine is vintage
Childhood wonder
and preparation for power.
She is bigger than I,
sometimes blocking out my stars
until I realize she is the stars too.

My feminine is an ancient,
She endures.
I find her in the majesty
of the sunsets.
Standing on the dock
Rolling gently on the ripples of
the pond, her quiet embrace
in the fading light
and the sudden serenade of
crickets.

She is there in each tear,
cried for beauty
and harmony.
I hear her there in my
inner stories
Tales of magic, of strong
sea goddesses and nurturing
queens
Bright adventuresses and
clever vagabonds.
Compassionate artists and
always safe harbors.

I miss her sometimes,
when I am scared to seek her out.
Those are the days that I long
to curl up inside her green
flowering belly, and grow into her.
Reborn and unafraid.

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