Take off your shoes,
or maybe your clothes,
and find a way to set yourself aside
without losing the fluid pulsing of your body.
Let the scrambling cease,
allow the fullness of the empty room
to sound like the silence of a cave.
Prepare to descend.
Know that she calls you deep into the earth,
listen to all the reasons you can’t go.
Pack them away like old sweaters you used to love.
Move with the trembling naked grace
of one who could choose another path, but won’t.
Allow the cold wet touch of fear in to your journey.
Lean into your rocks,
the slippery boulders that line your route down.
Know that you are lost.
Listen for the roar of the water,
the deep mother flowing underground,
echoing off the desolate walls of your soul
with an unrelenting invitation to love.