A "Buddhist" answer to why I write
Down the basement steps that are more like a ladder
Braving cobwebs that brush like ghost hair
And centipedes that saunter away to a crack
Not allowing one the dignity of having startled it.
On a rusty cot
Matted hair
Sunken eyes
The basement girl
She can't scuttle into a crack
So she shrinks into herself
And hides behind bent knees
Curled like an armadillo
Hoping we'll go away.
Sacred woman of light approaches
Singing a song we three know from childhood.
She doesn't mind that her white linen shift will get smudged
She wants to rescue shadow girl
Enfold her in a mother's embrace
Until she returns to the womb.
Such an overture would frighten shadow girl
To the point of torture.
Sacred woman combs out the snarls
With a hand as gentle as a mother's kiss
Shadow girl softens, relaxes, weeps
I can only sit on the stair
With my hand stopping my mouth
And Watch.