Nails packed full with earth from digging
a nest in the breast of the mother,
I curl into the tightness of darkened space
where I surrender to dreams and nightmares
whose ribbons of teeth strip my spirit
like flames through a hollow
bone, burning off the remnants
of curled flesh and ragged fears. I turn
into the shadow, nuzzle
into the warm oblivion, and wait
like a seed for the spring rain,
and the singing sun. The tiger turns
a circle, swooshes its tail
and pads away into the distant forest,
its glowing eyes alight with indifference.
By Suzette Winona Summers© 1/1/2014
This was a poem I was inspired to write in the early morning hours. A new year. After being ill on New Year's Eve, after diving deep into fears and anxiety, I awoke both physically and symbolically realizing that the "Tiger" of torment was working to set a part of me free. The mystery unfolds, and though it may challenge us, and push us to the limits, I choose to believe that it is love working to set us free.
~ In love,
Suzette