Thin is The Veil
listen…
to the primordial canticle
that weaves itself
like a desert wind
through the
falling leaves
and yielding branches
of your soul...
inhale…
this
living
haunting
incantation;
on this
hallowed eve,
when the veil
is stretched so thin;
all is made to glisten,
to glow...
all is made to speak
in dark whispers...
shhhhhhhhh…
sip the liquid moonlight,
claim your crown of stars,
feel the earth breathe beneath your feet...
the river is your mirror;
what do you see?
on this
dark night,
in this sleepy
midnight
hollow…
sacred thread words & image © Heather Rhodes
model: claire, in the new hampshire forest
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