October 10th, 2014

I am keeper of the mysteries.

What I know is understood only
in imaginal realms, in silence.

I know why the seasons turn—
how truth is not fathomed
in clean, neat sentences.

I keep secrets to myself—
containing multitudes,
embracing opposites,
formed from paradox.

I persist ever with enigma.

The dances I step to are
life, death, rebirth.

The metaphor is my landscape.