As we move into the winter, Politics’n’Poetry wishes you light and love.
This Holy Space
In ruffles as supple as satin, a small space hangs,
suspended mid-air in the middle of the room. Unbelievably real,
this curiousity of curves perplexes, beckons, teases
her consciousness, presenting only when her mind is calm,
when she is prepared, only when she knows the window
beyond the folds of here-and-now hides behind,
only when her focus is just so, her body
nothing more than cells curving into the fabric.
Only then can she draw back the curtain,
open herself to the bright light beyond the ruff.
She gathers courage, wraps it ‘round her
like a shawl, and steps through. Her feet,
first one, then the other, tingle with a pulse
that moves up into her calves where it thickens,
rises to her thighs, then up to her Yoni centre
and through and up again to that place of individuation,
climbing still upward to the beat of her aching heart,
and up through the breath of her love and up again
through the power of voice and higher still
through wisdom and thought and finally
up and out through the crown of glory shimmering
around and down in a shower of light and colour.
Oh, she is whole!
Oh, she is beginning!
— Solstice, 2006