.  . . . . .

i am a tomato growing woman
i am i am
each spring i turn the soil
haul manure and hope for
the sweet juicy fruit
to run down 
my chin my chin

i was a child growing woman
still am still am
those precious little bodies
clutching my hands, breasts, heart
miss them miss them

now i grow mysteries
of self of self
drum beat opens long closing doors
hallways are filling with light
inner fires are burning burning

twice i was a wife
i was i was
weaving self into other
colors mixed and muted
my circle broken
gone gone

now i am a friend
i am i am
we drum and chant
dance around the fire
look for the truth
in each others eyes
in the stillness after 
we listen listen
cosmos great mother
of all of all
sighs through my soul
calls me unto her
she whispers softly
do my work my work
i answer
i am i am

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