She is ideas, feelings, urges, and memory. She has been lost and half forgotten for a long, long time.

She is the source, the light, the night, the dark, and daybreak.

She is the smell of good mud and the back leg of the fox.

The birds which tell us secrets belong to her. She is the voice that says,

‘This way, this way.’

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

when I begin to see the underbelly…

inquiry for today~ may you seek understanding….

under the cool clear calm

We try so hard-

We cling to everything—clothes,

memories, dreams—so tightly when

only burning them will warm us.

We want so badly to come alive

when to do so we must die along

the way.

And finding love, we want to hide

it like a treasure at the bottom of

the sea. Instead life humbles us

to be the flag to each other’s wind.

~Mark Nepo