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.