I am quiet so

her invitation comes closer.

The mermaid myth moves like velvet wind in me, I must have

seen her before,

from behind, arching toward the sun at our horizon,

there she is in that one great sky-cloud, in the space between rain coming down for days.

In the rain too, of course, where she reigns without sigh or remorse, or holding back her soundless breathless mirth that waits.

She cries, O goddess in you!

from the goddess in her.

I cry back,

Thank you for being found!

Because today is a day for building worlds,

it’s too late to retroact

To mourn
To scream confusion
To bellow in your ears for compassion.

It’s too late to take the night and set it on fire and throw down the day with bloodied brushstrokes and swords that gleamed the centuries away.

Down with taking down!

So we turn to the mermaid who has been bathing her wisdom with soft feather breath these long years, encasing it with an ever-moving grace, fluid, readying it for our awakening, ready to

Be

Move

Dance

Touch

Hush the mountains of our rained down hope.

~

~

~

~

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Editor: Emily Bartran

Photos: Author’s Own