Door of Discontent
by Aoibheann Doyle / Friday, 5 May 2006
by I am walking through
The secret Door
Of Discontent.
This moment,
I am sifting through the wreckage
Exploring the mysterious Miracles
Of Disastrous change.
The debris is everywhere.
All over me,
The Earth,
The trees.
My precious energy shattered,
Scattered, stripped…
From Dublin to Galway.
I am dealing
with the details and Demons
of this wreck.
Scarlet red lace panties
Lace the floor
No More, no more!
For…
I am home.
Inside my internal,
Instinctual belonging.
Fallen through the Door
Of la Que Sabe.
Allow me rest by her
Reviving fire,
Being rocked back and fourth
In her incubating arms.
In rhythm with my creative cycle.
Safe in the embrace
Of the Wild, wild Woman.
