Song of the Pelvis to the Self

I am connected to your neck, your head,
your mouth, your tongue—
I am a crossroads, a matrix of meaning.
I have a mind of my own.
I am silent thunder.
Though, if you listen,
yes, listen in, carefully,
you can discern my song—
What I have to offer you cannot “know”,
not in the normal ways you think,
and yet I will carry you far.
Far.
Further.
Further than you would have otherwise known,
to an inside which is an outside,
an inner which is an outer within,
in which you reside,
within which you are--
Call to me full of flowers,
call out to me with your blossoms,
dress me in celebration.
Would that I be addressed with ceremonious honor—
Songs and libations—
Drain your cup full to the top
and over the brim, over brimming
as I come forth with light & air & substance.
Sub- stance. Sub. Stance.
Away, away, away—
Way down, and away.
A way. A Way. This-s-s-s-s Way.
Gen – gentle – generative – generations – engender-r-r-r--
Regenerate.
My gowns are flowing white,
my gowns are flowing red,
my gowns, a deep echoing silence within,
within, with in— a body without a body.
Enter my multiplicity.