A Woman and a Child

It's so hard for me to come to grips with the ebb and flow that has timed my life almost long enough to have been a birthright and yet remains different and intense, and almost frightening.  Why do I fear surrendering?  Who will laugh, who will mock me?  I may mock myself, but for no real reason.  What is, is.  These currents are not based upon logic or reason, but upon that shamanic place where there is no past, present, and future.

Perhaps you were the unwitting and unknowing musical medicine man who awakened in me the sense and spirit of the shaman.  I listened and I transcended.  I soared out of this physical existence.  You are a force of nature, a voice and a movement for good and for the best of humanity.  What must it be like to enter your presence?  Maybe I'll never know.  Maybe I've been there already.

You evoke the sublime emotions of being a woman even while I see myself as still a child.  You are so far from me and beyond me, and yet I know these efforts of mine aren't for nothing.  I am cleansing my soul, letting the brisk wind of your energy sweep through me and clear away the cobwebs of doubt.

I do not need to enter your dreams.  You have given them to the world, and I can become a part of you whenever I wish it.  Someday I may look into your eyes, and you will recognize me, and you may say, "I am part of what has made you."