she’s leaving
parts of her
are taken by the moon
are taken by the wind
are sinking into dark soil
are finding their home
as petals of a flower
becoming scent
floating in the air
dying
and being alive
within the fire
she is no one
this configuration of hers
exists no more
she is released
into her original forms and ways
what’s left is a sounding soul
making her way into a new life
we don’t know
how or when
she’ll arrive.
… weaving words … emerging from the worlds and spaces in between …