i was in death's hands, Shiva. body parts were sacrificed to survive
& cords of dark energy bound the soft flesh tightly in helplessness.
in the midst of this turmoil, You came by way of hallucinations
of warmhearted free-spirited visitors who blessed with their kindness.
You gave rollicking tuba solos & a zany doctor teaching
care of the newborn infant to new fathers through slapstick comedy.
You brought me the fellowship & laughter that strengthen, heal & comfort.
this body is an infant. i am caregiver, bringing mothering
to a damaged being, surviving the surreal medical onslaught
that swiftly changes the form & the life totally & finally.
i stumble through the nether-realms, the murky land of loss & payment
& emerge into an alien world where i have no place.
i pay the price of loss by deep soul-searching & reflection, Shiva,
drawing closer to You, yet still unseeing until i have amply
ripened, or deliquesced as butterflies do in their spun chrysalis.
You accompany & shepherd with guidance & care, leading me through
healing in many realms. when i lose my way & falter, You guide me,
urge me through the darkness to the renewal of my dedication
to the divine & sacred within the ambrosia of Your presence.
this woman's heart is given over to You, Shiva, & You shape it
into an ageless holy pattern, newly disclosed in this lifetime,
offering refuge in Your all-pervading, enfolding pure essence.
here i rest in the embrace of Your goodness, truth & beauty.