Changing Woman
I Am the phases of the moon,
the faces of a womban,
and all the ghost people
dancing in My womb,
waiting to be born out of dreams.
I Am illusion, a dance of scarves.
Nothing is as it seems.
Search deep and you will find yourself,
your fortune and your future and your past
floating in My crystal ball,
and on My face the mask love carves.
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You see My shape in the eddy of the clouds,
My shape in foam shifting in the water,
and My shape is the pattern of your dreams
always waning away.
My face is changing in the map of the storm,
changing in rock carved by waves,
and every face of Me reflects your hidden heart.
I Am Queen of Night, each star My face,
My thousand faces blazing
almost out of sight.
You see My face in the changing moon,
My face in the sun, too bright to see.
The northern lights
pulse My vast face of dream across the sky.
You close your eyes and see My face.
Learn to face Me in your fears,
face Me in your aging,
and in My gentle face of death
masking rebirth.
Our dancing feet
swirl the careful painting in the sand,
and leave the image
of our shared yearning.
© Tamara Rasmussen 2018