The Mother Rising

Straddling two worlds?


There is only one.

Why diminish yourself into multitudinousness

when you can just Be?

Why create a dimensionality you can’t see

to explain you and me?

Belief and disbelief aren’t really.

Think your skin doesn’t house the holy?

No matter.

She lives

and calls your blood

her staircase to rise.

With each heart beat

her heart is yours.



© 2020 by Ingrid Oliphant