by Linda Mosca
Shiva It's 5 am and I'm finished
pretending the world will end tomorrow The sense and sensibility are
trying to sneak up and shake me And I throw the last of my clothes onto
the heap of tomorrow's problems And I expect to see you there A simple
thing, really Just there -- a symbol -- my first -- I became a snake
shaman for you My tiny serpent! I wanted to give you beds of flowers to
relish I wanted -- wanted -- and thought there was always time Why do my
littlest ones leave? It seems a very tough world .. a cliché, but
true, all the same Fortune favors the .. hmmm? Survivor, I suppose --
your adventures have taught me you were brave, Well, flowers get crushed
along the way in this world, brave or not. And sometimes they're missed.
And metaphors become simply that. But occasionally, we cast a distracted
eye and feel that pull at our hearts. Go back into the earth, my darling
serpent. To waken when we challenge the fearful heavens -- To waken in
my arms in the fields. One and whole again, my whisperer of secrets, my
friend. The goddesses have always revered you in your glory. And I held
you once and will hold you again, and loved you and always will. Sleep
in my heart, my Shiva-naga.