Gurus, prophets, sages and mystics for a moment-

Climbing into warriors-

Letting go of all the doing-

Dropping it softly,

As knees fall-

Into child’s pose.

Soon the foundation of oceanics rhythms give way–

releasing the I-

the WE-

and the ever present

me, MEEEE, me.

Our bodies, clay pots- are thrown with each breath,

Glazed with each movement-

Ready as the heat rises-

We glisten with each new firing-

As our vessels’ impurities bead and drop,

One by one

We leave,

We grow into

Good enough mothers-

Compassionate enough fathers,

Smart enough sisters and

Strong enough brothers.

Taller, we begin again…

Ready to share a little more,

Ready to fight a little less