Journey to Annali

Down through the tree, feeling the strength, the tightness all round me.
  The roots, wet, spongy, soft, cold.
  Out into the dirt, not to the river, but still in the dirt.
  Worms, bugs, still in the dirt.
  Snake comes.

'Snake.' say I, 'What have you to teach me, Snake?'
  'Please show me my daughter.'

Back in the field.
  She is there in the middle of the field.

Scared, alone, frightened, shivering.
  Wants warmth, just needs warmth.
  Sun, love, without expectations, so frightened.
  Elemental, basic, life.

Nothing else matters.
  So scared, so lonely, so frightened of being alone, cold.
  Just hold her, just hold her.

'Snake.  Tell me how to love my daughter.'

'You know.  You know how to be a mother.'
'What do you do when she is frightened?'
   'I hold her.'
'What do you do when she is lonely?'
   'I stand beside her.'
'What do you do when she is angry?'
   'I let her be angry.'

'You are not her anger.  You are not her feelings.
  You are not her perception of you.
  You are not your perception of yourself.
  You are more than all that.
  It is safe to bear her anger.
  You will still be whole.'

She is sitting across the fire from me.
  They sing and dance around her.
  She is confused, frightened.
  Her son, my grandson,
    eyes bright, laughing in their arms as they dance.

'Sit across from me, my daughter, while they dance and sing.
Hold my eyes, stay with me, don't run, stay, stay.
I hold the space for you.
Your son is okay - he knows them, he dances with them.
Hold my gaze, stay with me.'

Combing her hair, touching her, washing her hands, spiritual cleansing;
  Healing.
  They are healing her.
  I am not allowed to participate;
  must sit and watch;
  bless, hold the space, watch, witness;

Never break from her gaze,

Never.