Walk
.
When the waking eye dreams
as given by the ages
they self-title us
what in children is called vivid imagination
in maturity is dubbed lunacy
Who is to say the mad child is not the wisest of us all!
i dance half naked in the streets,
yapping curs.
walk unshod
and embrace her heart resounding in your bones
blood, breath, air, wine
brother, lover, mother, child
Breathe!
i am the Queen of Fools
a jester in the high court
Rustling leaves are akin to the water flow
and here the rivers flow uphill
My pace must never slacken
over jagged paths of stone and smooth silken grasses,
green bellies of comforting grass,
lest her heart be stilled
.
-MoonSidhe © 1999