Descending the stairway to the
underworld, I struggle to
grip my temper, to
speak my embers while
raising the sea...my
force fleeing from tides
that weave silence into
a weapon to decieve...
And the mother of my
active will meets me at
the bottom stair, looks
at me and I at her,
then turning, I ascend
for more...more
waiting for the depths
that rise so silently
within, while the mother
speaks life in the
shape of a grin...
subtly welcoming
my journey to begin.