Blood Moon
on the remembering of body and land
Like cascading rivers,
dust spirals in the open,
the air a carrier,
for whats unspoken,
carved by the invisible force,
unseen, but implied,
you will be molded,
by this to survive.
~
Not that you chose,
what was shaped within,
neural pathways form,
contorted voices spoke,
why you were born,
your worth measured,
by how well you conform.
~
what your body knows
you learned to deny,
as well as remembering,
your earthly mitochondria,
and the sound of their cries,
addicted to extraction,
left of your essence,
only a fraction.
~
Your cells turning on each other,
forgetting their origin,
the soil becomes deranged,
blood stains the sand,
ice caps melt,
earthquakes felt,
it’s a natural progression of land,
a product produced,
from the insatiable thirst,
of the ever hungry man.
~
Aching with amnesia,
I reach to remember,
we will reap what we sew.
No one wins,
until power is surrender.
~
I feel the wound in my womb,
when I bleed with the moon,
as the snake eats its tail,
umbilical cord cut,
as we continually devour,
It’s time to wake up.
~
The earth shakes and breaks stagnancy,
volcanos purge rage,
wild fires burn infection,
tsunamis wash complacency,
hurricanes clear deception.
~
I am her mountains and rivers,
her desert dunes and oceans waves,
I am her winters,
her jungles, and lakes.
I am now what molded me,
the programming and the patriarchy,
I am the only,
unfolding,
as I rewrite the coding.
~
to find a way home to her,
back to the blood that pulses,
the rivers of my veins,
the branches in my nerves,
the mycelium in my brain.
~
I am her,
in all of her sunny skies and rain.



Yes.
I wish I could write poetry well✨✨ such a wonderful piece✨✨