It was in the dragon's mouth

It was in the dragon's mouth where I found out I was free

Swooping down from sky, laying head on earth like thunder

He snatched me from behind and I met the dark

Sharp edges of teeth and hot breath

I froze like ice in a world of terror

Then something in my depths whispered,

If this is what you want for me, so be it.

My body finds melting and

I finally ease into the edges of mouth –

I soften

I am prepared to die this night, to shed my thousandth skin

And that is it – he flies away, the dragon leaves me.

There is a room where the old women weave our stories

Wise women with looms and yarn and buckets of water to scrub and soak the wool

They are bringing threads together that may otherwise never have crossed

The way these threads entwine is sensuous and colorful –

the green, grey, black, gold of the dragon are well known here

These women are weaving our lives –

as they sing songs that have never been written down

in a language that has never been written down –

Songs that are just known.

Lay me down in the dragon's mouth

Lay me down on stone

Stretch me from north to south

Chip away my bone

I will surrender to this beast of life

I will let the women weave

For it's there in the creature's hot cave of teeth, thick with breath and night,

where we know that we are free.