Kristin's Easter poem

Five years ago I wrote this poem on Easter weekend in front of a fire in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Thank you for being a community which I can share my full intentions with, even when I am absent.

it is with great hesitance

that i slip

into a state

reverence

and light my insecurity

on fire

the flame of

transformation

awaits an opportunity

to grasp

a slip of paper

folded in four

a death is written

across its creases


yet my

fate will not wait

so

i

let

the

air carry

me through

currents

of timeless vents

where red ember

snaps with pure elements

and she speaks

to me as a burning

tree. she says,

"to me, send the ashes

of that which

cowers

your

dances."