by Jennifer L. Jacoby
The shaman, sufi and mystic turn their circles,
Constantly seeking the piece, the Peace, the Love that
Takes them home. Is this what it means to be broken?
Cracks give a stone room to breathe, gift a soul space to
Wonder. Are cracks doorways then, or just deceptions?
Can a mirror reflect true if it is broken?
Every day we drink of potential and choose
What to create. Many paths, one destination.
Choosing wholeness means refusing to be broken.
Knots in the tapestry swirl the tide, shift the dance
Of ebbing and flowing. Releasing the colors,
Blood flows true. A river can never be broken.
The Moon empties and fills, perfect even in Her
Imperfections. Stone cracks to dissolve back to earth.
The oak grows only once the acorn is broken.
Bathed in moonlight, the labyrinth spirals, calling
The blood to freedom, to flow. Love is the doorway,
Chiya. Turn your circle; refuse to be broken.
Peace and long life… Jennifer