She Fell from The Stars

 

she fell
from the stars
without a sound,

into a cradle of pungent moss
in the belly of the forest...

the great horned owl
witnessed,

the lucent moon gazed
upon this new and tender child
with quiet wonder
and
hope...

she fed on the
symphony of
primordial sights
and sounds
around her,

she spoke in a feathered language,
layered with a revelatory vision
that kept Hildegard
awake at night...

her faithful, pale-eyed dove
sat sentinel
through the ripening
of her wild and starlit heart... 

her purpose clear,
tethered by
the silver strands of
her grandmother’s hair,
infused with
indigenous stories
and secrets
and healing;

carried by the winds;

and woven
into the warbler’s nest
that shimmered like silk-spun platinum
in the morning sun...

and through it all
she paused
frequently,
attuning herself
to the song
that travels
between the worlds....

seraph
brilliant oriole
humming bird
jet black crow
winged extra terrestrial

and now
she sees
a thousand brilliant sparrows dive
into the crust of the earth;

weaving
threads of compassion
deep into the core;

harkening
the great and holy mending...

birds
are
visible
prayers;

singing us,
weaving us
home,

with our own
forgotten song
of indigenous connection...

sacred thread words & image © Heather Rhodes at studio petronella
model: makenzy
studiopetronella.com

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My Beloved Son

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June’s Entrance