The Crescendo

She stands with her back to the land,
to the way she has come to the now.
Rugged toes crafted by life vibrate for the task.
Her straight back stirs forward,
and her body is the lioness
who knows birth and death
are impossible to separate
on the yellowed, grassy plain.
In the ravine, thousands of miles below,
her eyes somewhere take anchor.
Her mother-love is the phantom fingered wind
which kneads her back, pushes her slightly
forward. And her father is the flex of thigh,
steadily readying for soar.
She is on the edge of a precipice;
she does not yet comprehend the meaning
and smiles as if to a friend
because it is always a desire, this
soon-to-be-believed darkness and light.
There is no ownership here;
the infant must always go free,
but the love will remain.
No matter if she has found herself
destroyed in the end--
The love will remain.
So she takes the step that will place her
in freefall. Opens to the rushing and 
surrenders control. Colors the picture bright,
changes the blank page to night,
assures the instrument its life is right
and lands somewhere, in the place
they are meant to be.
No longer alone, 
the artist welcomes her creation closer
and in so doing, realizes herself. 
 
© Coleen T. Houlihan
First published in MoJo! The Maps One Journal; Issue 2.