perhaps the wind i feel,
and the brotherhood of trees.
the worship of the feminine,
the gateway and the path.
made drunk by beauty,
maddened with desire.
yet still as the mountains,
sipping time by the moment.
the bare foot in the mud,
the feather by the door.
the birth of the child,
the death of the father.
it is the night i walk…
because that’s who i am!
inspired by one of Patti’s poems!
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