Rite of Passage

(WARNING:  Poetry!)

Where does the shady path lead?

Can I pass my time curled in this womb, the entanglement exhaling around me?

Can I linger on warm sand sifting through fingers, toes, hair,

watching light flit limb to limb,

stretching wide to fondle feather-soft fronds?

Can I leave my mind empty, embracing pure now—

not planning, plotting, projecting,

not retracing, repeating, replaying—

just being present here now?

Can I ripple side to side within these gentle curves?

I lift my head to stare beyond my mountain toes as the distant point, narrow and diamond-glittery, becomes a phantom.

I breathe.

My open eyes do not see beyond their lids, so, on sharp elbows I begin the slow digging creep, my body following as my crown leads off the page.

This shady path leads where.

"Rite of Passage" (18x24)

“Rite of Passage” (18×24)


4 thoughts on “Rite of Passage

  1. Diana Dice

    At dinner, my friends raved about your poem…….no ones seems to understand why you are so unsure about it all. Especially me.

    Thank you for sharing it with us.



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