From a little before the New Year....

i climb the
winding staircase
to the inner room-
isolated, silenced,
She waits for me there.
like a princess from a
hundred different fairytales,
locked in the highest tower
behind insurmountable castle walls-

but She is different.

She is the princess of all
things Wild-
of the brush
the bramble
the thorns
of the raging river's swell,
her Mystery is shadow, night-
her majesty, the raven's wing
the Moonlight-
and She has long been howling
behind precipice and stone
long been waiting for my
Loba ears to grow-
and recognize Her voice.

growing restlessness and impatience
signals
some new initiation
as i peer
through the window
into this room
that is my heart.