Caravan Dream


The caravan carries us,
There is no stopping,
we are moving, moving.
My mother rides with me.
Young and medieval in dress,
she guides the horses like a hero.
I am turning inside out,
trembling in a Healing Crisis.
My mother anchors my hand.

I kiss the woman stranger
with whom we ride.
A lingering kiss
under bluest sky.
The trophy we won
shows two dolphins twining
in delight beneath the sea.
Our little ones have saved us
Our healing has come from our wounds.

My voice breaks, I can’t say
how much I feel.
To receive the energy,
I go silent. Silent.
The caravan jostles onwards,
while I still my inward self.
Inside me, the Beloved whispers
Live fully! You will leave
this life in ten years time.

The caravan bears us on,
a traveling planetwomb.
I must make my poetry
from all of seven views.
With holographic vision
I weave the levels and dimensions,
into a singing tapestry
of hidden springing energies.
The caravan carries, carries us.

©Susa Silvermarie 2022

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