Over cracks and shadows
she travels;
feet lightly skimming
the ground.
Until planting them,
she lands,
where the soil runs red,
and throbs
with a deep down sound.
It moves like a drumbeat
through her.
Hips rock
with the hidden rhythm.
She’s lost in a trance,
as old as time.
Gift from the gods,
once given.
Born with fire’s secret;
lighting the walls
of caves.
The spirits move her body;
as moonlight
waking the waves.
And when the music softens,
she stands for a moment
still.
The magic still stirring
within her,
leaving the trail
of its thrill.
Photo by Eddie Kopp
roshnii 