Climbing Up Out Of The Ashes

Leaping Around The Rings

It began as I passed out on the floor,
my feet upon the crocheted rug of my grandmother's.
My mother said each flower of string knots were created from a anxious worry of her past she could not speak, not from fear but anger, fear was not something she carried, or at least never shown, ...
she survived it ..one stitch at a time.
This rug of five colors, four thousand stitches, three months of time, passed on down in the family twice, held one woman of the same blood as her own..
my grandma ..native woman, naked they found her all alone, fire burned out, by the "friendly" peacemakers, I now sleep upon her burdens she turned into  beauty and comfort.

Seven rings around my Saturn eyes held my face as a raccoon,
Only I held no dagger teeth of danger or prickly claws of defense.
I held a bleeding out heart, Saturn eyes, a shaky clammy hand.
You were there in my dream leaping over my rings,
darting in and out of my vision never once falling,
you knew I wanted you to trip and land in my arms,
you knew I desired to be your hero,
you knew you would never fall, yet you kept leaping anyways.
Laughing as if to tease me, almost letting me catch you, my hands gripping your waist, how the tickle tried to claim me but my grandmother and her spirit wouldn't allow that.
In circles we went round and round,
your eyes of Jupiter mine of Saturn,
your leaps, my sprints, so close to being caught.

I felt the reality hit me between my chest,
I grabbed you by your flesh,
Nose to Nose, we were an inch apart,
I claimed your lips urgently, ungently roughened,
the past butchers of my grandma's past coming to life in our passion, I tripped out onto you, where you caught me,
as you knew I would, you always knew I would hero,
even before I ever woke up.