Waiting

Waiting
in that still space,
between the rising and waning,
waxing and setting.
Waiting
until the heartbeat of the earth
reaches up into her core
with its raucous, teeming, wild, ragged beauty;
its roots cracking
the hard stone
just enough
for her to begin softening into
what wants to be born
in us,
through us,
and for us.
Again.

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