She sleeps on earth's dusty pallet,
Rests a hided skull on death's pillow
Of muscled lumbering
Through berried forests broken
Only by rivers of salmon
Of seeing the unseen,
A full stomach,
And the giddy suckling of cubs
She trusts in herself
And the cold, dark cave's
Warmth and light
This is so beautiful. I love the message of trust in the natural hibernation process that all things have. I also love the feeling of cave and womb. I may totally be making this up, but I feel like you have been working on making your safe womb/cave to create from...A safe place where you can trust yourself and the natural rhythm of things...that's how this hits me.
The first lines of this poem, and the image, came through sleep, and for the first time in a long time, I got up to write them down. Over the next few days, I wanted to shape the poem according to your prompt of this week, and tried Kahlil Gibran and ee cummings, but no go! Probably this work was midwifed instead by your earlier prompt about dreams! I do think that the prompts take hold in me, but the gestation period is longer than a week
Anyway, thanks for your response. As usual, you are connected to my creative process, and this poem is about feeling my way through my own "rhythm." Thank you for creating a safe place for me to that.
I'm so happy to hear the prompts are taking you somewhere. I love that you got up to write the lines down!
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