Becoming the Lady With the Headlamp

Becoming The Lady With the Headlamp

- or -

“Awareness, The Tornado Two-Step”

Tornadoes learn how to spin from Mother Wind

Nobody knows how the lady learned to spin

She spins so hard

So gracefully

Her colors swirl

Forming the same spiral as her insides

So, instead of frightening nature

All the pretty little creatures

All the green leaves that offer them dew

All the shells that crunch under her feet

Collecting sand, releasing skin

Instead of frightening the creatures, the leaves, the shells, the dew,

She has always blended in

Her colors swirling

A perfect weave

Even though her companions

told her she was divergent

She could spin slowly or faster than light

Makes no difference

The problem is when she stops

Is it by choice?

Perhaps

She chose to wear the black lace, the opal silk,

The water hide, survival gear,

And twine,

And then, one day

a Headlamp broke through the skin of her forehead

Her sex spread open,

Her heart became fearless and its opposite

Her lungs filled with air and she gasped

Fire and rocks in her stomach

And it threw her off

Balance

Or so she thought

In her mind’s eye, she saw herself stumble

and so she did

But she got up,

And some unidentified flying object slapped her face and she fell

But she got up

Wobbled, took steps, and slipped on the proverbial banana peel

Tossed away like trash

She trudged through the shit, just like everyone does

For a while, then she forged left

She got up,

And forged left

Thorns marking her imperfect,

Just like everyone else

Just like everyone else does

Releasing flowers and blood

Flowers that wilt

But they all got up

And forged left

At the other end of the thicket

was a wide open space

Between worlds

And it made her bobber sink and she was lost

For a moment

But she floated up

And gasped,

Tensing her muscles and releasing

the weight of her fear

But not the Headlamp,

In the dark, she could see the patterns

And match their flight

With a slight leftward wobble,

She spun spirals

Weaving in and out of this world

The headlamp causing a perfect imbalance

And she forged leftward

Dancing and catching light

Building up

Her thighs taut but open

The Lady with the Headlamp learned how to spin from the Source

Again and Again

She got up

So gracefully

And forged leftward

Her colors swirling

Forming the same spiral as her insides

So, instead of frightening nature

All the pretty little creatures

The green leaves that offer her dew

All the shells that crunch under her feet

Collecting sand, and releasing skin

Instead of frightening the creatures, the leaves, the shells, the dew

She has always blended in

She gets up

Again and again and again

Spirals make

A perfect weave

Tornadoes learn how to spin from a Mother Wind

Nobody knows how the Lady learned to spin so gracefully

Her colors swirling

So, instead of frightening nature

The pretty little creature

the green leaf that offers dew

Collecting sand, releasing skin

Instead of being afraid,

Her colors swirl

A perfect balance

She accepts what she now sees

part of the dance

She has always (and yet, never quite)

Blended

In

by Lady Headlamp