by Carol Reiman
Illuminating fire of the burning bush.
Livestreaming ladder of angelic messengers.
Protecting voice of the she-ass, female with the weight of responsibility, birthing words of courage, seer of boundaries.
This is the place in which we have walked, oblivious or called.
Wandering, weeping by waters, reaching beyond and within.
Nurturing what was pulled from the reeds, allowing the land and its tenders to rest, leaving food at the edges for those in the margins.
Joy in first fruits, dancing in gratitude, peace in the soul.
Carol C. Reiman, making connections with new and old, they take in the world while visiting cats, mulling this and that.
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