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 229. Shaman-ess
In this world
They only see
A body painter
In that world
They see me
Weaving spells
Of light and
Energy
Enfolding
The canvas
Into the Web
Of Life.

In this world
They only see
A chalk artist
In that world
They see me
Drawing fate
Strings and
Karmic destinies
With the Gazers
Touching the core
Of the Mother
With healing.

In this world
I am called
A poet.
In that world
I am called
The Voice
The Author
Of the Many,
She Who Listens
& Bridges
The Worlds.

But to say
That there
Is only a here
And a there,
Corporeal
And Incorporeal,
Isn't the whole
Truth,
A piece of art
With only
Two sides
Trying to
Describe
A 10th dimensional
Experience,
Black & White
With no room
For shades
Of grey,
Rainbow colors in
A room
Full of the
Color blind.

Every foot
Is in many
Worlds.

Every world
Sees me as
Something
Different.

Every person
Holds their
Own world.

Drink the Elixir
Of your choice
And join me
In the Dreamtime.

I walk between
The worlds
Unassisted because
They were my
Playgrounds
As a child
Chained to
The bed
Of illness,
My spirit
Roamed the
Multi-verse,
I am a child
Of many worlds
Not just
This little clod
Of dirt
Called Earth.

But in these
Times and spaces
They don't know
Quiet what
To call me,
That there was
Once a sacred
And revered
Place for
The likes of
Me who can
Walk between
And amongst
The many
Worlds.

I have walked
My own grandfather
Into the light.
I have chased
Down the cowardly
And thrown them
Back into
Their bodies.
I have taken
The lost
And shown
Them how
To find
Their families.
I have sealed
The darklings
Away from
This world
For the harm
They have
Wrought on
The innocent.

I am not
Just wise words
And kindness
Or a brutal
Truth-Sayer
Who kicks
Ghostly @&&.

I am too
Much to be contained
In these little
Black & White
Letters…
But when I am
Needed
I am solidly
Here for
You.


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