The Nurturer

Walk through the wide archway, tangled with blushing roses,
Step past the salvia and thyme which lace the stepping stones.
Lay down your mother in law
and her cancerous breast on the pine table.

Let go of your daughter
who seldom calls or writes and
the fact that you thought you had taught her better than that,
let alone the hurt that aches at her name.


Lay down in the hammock between two willows
or the mountain top or
even the salty white sand by the sea.

Across your eyes and forehead, place the moist lavender pillow.
Breathe in the cool dry air of the ponderosa pine or the warm ocean breezes.

Taste the pineapple juice on your tongue,
allow the lime of icy crystals to bite and melt in your mouth.
Absorb the soft sensation of sweet and sour soup and soothe the sensitive stomach.

The wind and bird song play gentle in your ears
as the masseuse lays hands on your oiled body
and your dogs soft fur moves beneath your fingers.

As they massage your temples and the weight of worries flies on the back of a falcon to an old dead tree,
allow the nurturer to free you
and comfort every aching and grieving cell your body yearns to set on it’s way.

You are just as you need to be.
Breathe in and out.
Let go that great sigh
you have held in for so long.

Let the eagle carry you safely over the mountain.
Lie in the warm gulf waters
as the waves lap around you and the
stars blink to show you the way.

You are enough.