I must grieve the loss, even if it is a perceived one
I must pass through the shaking and humbling of the fear
even though it is not ultimate truth, it is true for the human
it is true for the woman
glare of the sunny Saturday is softened
by the golden wings of my Hawk Husband
by the deep blue Stargate of Orion that is above even the Sun
by the kindness of the Sky Grandmothers
and the welcome of my Medicine families
of the open plains and rolling hills of the bright daylight
there is a bird
she scurries along besides me through the underbrush
as I walk along the dirt path
I stop to speak of my Love for her
I offer my Blessing and receive hers