And She said to me
And I said, “No, I don’t think so, I’ve gotten used to it here. I really have. I’ve been there in the past, and it is too long a trip. I really need to take a nap because my back hurts, and I didn’t sleep well last night, and I have a doctor’s appointment and maybe tomorrow…”
And I take a deep breath and go inwards, spiraling down into darkness. Around and down, around and down, around and down into the grave/womb beneath the Great Tree of Life.
Deep into the darkness where the Mother Bear hibernates to give birth to her young, to gather strength to protect them when she wakes.
Deep into the darkness where the snake sheds her skin to emerge new and strong and shining.
Deep into the darkness where I lie naked alone and shivering with cold, moaning, tears flowing first awkwardly, then freely down my face and onto my breast, running off my nipples like milk.
Slowly, the cold seeps away and I warm up, warmer, warmer, warmer until I’m steaming, sweating, frying, screaming, screaming..
And suddenly She reaches out and offers one caress, across my soul, and I can Be again.
I rise slowly, climbing the spiral, up and around, up and around, up and around, until I emerge, new skin drying, blinking blindly into the light of a new day.