Walking Sticks
Leaving it all behind
even if only for a moment,
that is all one has,
a wink of time
in presence.
The trail sparkles
with the golden stardust
of the fallen leaves.
The daylight star beckoning
flowers to peek through
and thrive again.
Casting away the coldness
of the passing season,
wisps of wind playfully dance
in my hair.
The warm shine of Sol’s power
kisses my skin,
speaking of a tender revival.
Deep within my body
is a burning ache
to summit the rocky ridge
so that I may dance with the sun
once more.
A season of slumber
is coming to a close,
and here I stand
in the breeze of the springtime
intermezzo.
The momentary hibernation
contains a treasure of spells,
valuable are the darkest ones
and the longing born within them.
The tapestry of nature unfolding
wills my heavy legs into action,
climbing a path of gratitude,
that I may wear this golden ray
as a jewel
upon my crown.
Lady Mae Thunderbird was born on a military installation in Southern Georgia and now lives and writes in the city of Frederick, Maryland. Her life is immersed in the healing arts as she has journeyed out of the Underworld of Disorder. When not writing, she is often connecting with nature, or walking through the graveyards of the people that she used to be. She is an avid home herbalist and ceremonial practitioner. She is also a lifelong dancer and lover of moving energy, harnessing movement to transmute Suffering into Soul Essence.