remember, queens…
I offer my reply.
oh, maya, how we need you here. in the place where the ground is unsteady and the handholds feel slippery and there’s something lurking in the shadows.
thank you for reminding us that we need our boots and our gloves, our shovels and chisels, we need our girl scout badges and our adolescent smirks and our elemental powers of creation and our biggest, baddest guardians…the feisty witches and protective trolls and the capricious fairies and Brienne of Tarth and the mothers behind us standing in a line all the way back to grandmother eve, each with her hand on a shoulder she nurtured through the darkness of winter to spring.
oh, maya, for you, and all the cosmic forces of good, we plant our feet on this sacred ground, be it muddy or snow-packed or sand-whipped or rocky with no tree in sight, and we stand. we fight.
we fight with no regrets, for our labors will not have been in vain, for we have seeded the world with justice, for we have seeded the world with welcome, for we have seeded the world with love.
the dark-eyed juncos feed now on the ledge outside the window while snow powers over the landscape, all the gashes and wounds blanketed, and the brilliance of what can be made new before my eyes…all the measures to control undone by the conditions of this weather…as all becomes receptacle, surface, for that which arrives from beyond.
and before i get too metaphorical…oh, maya, teach us to march with courage toward that which holds a sword of destruction. teach us to howl until the last breath has left us. teach us to fuel our fires with the Heart of All Things, which offers life and growth and freedom for the benefit of all our relations.
peace, love, and happiness, y’all….
