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 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.