THE WEAVE:

Arachne reflects on birth…

As I stirred again,
breaking the shell
I had been playing in

I could not
write by hand.  It was
too agonizing to move

as slowly as I needed to
for fingertips to say,
"Again, embodiment."

As you slough the trauma
from the surface,
you begin to remember

what embodiment felt like,
and who you are
before you were hurt

and gave hurting.
I do not know
how much time it Will take

you, or if
your mind works the Way
that mine does.  I am

using these felt memories
to teach mySelves
to remember the experience

of being embodied
in the Way it comes
naturally.

Lately it is a maple tree,
who's branches I know
by Heart; the climb,

one of the first movements
I made, after school, to regulate,
if it was warm

and even if it wasn't.
A jump-reach, to catch
the first branch, then swing

the legs up, to the next
one, and pull your body through,
thrusting your pelvis

forward, and coming into
balance. When you've made it,
into the Fold, the Maple

holds a natural Spiral.
You could walk
or hop, all throughout it

once you knew the Ways.
It was cut down
at some point.

Whether it died, or was
found to be inconvenient,
I do not remember.

It was a loss, for me.
I was told it was silly,
to feel 

so much, for a Tree.