blossoming (the oracle of the well)

this morning
i awoke to hummingbirds
buzzing insistently
outside my window….

no flowers in my garden –
yet here they are….

i noticed sun,
soft air, blue sky….

since i have lost so much this last year—
more than i can say to you –
i decided on this lovely day,
to go see the woman at the well….

i found her sitting,
her head on her knee, curled up in the lee
of a sunlit stucco wall
at her temple on the cliff….

she looked up at me and spoke
after a very long time:

i’m afraid
i have very little to offer you
at the moment….

she said….

i would like to say something uplifting….

i would like to be articulate
and use sparkling verbs….

i would like to astound you with
insight, wisdom, stunning imagery –
something!

at the moment, though,
words have left me….

they were the last things to go –

the year took everything….

it will all return, on the great
wheel of life….

but for now, my dear,
my wells are empty….

she patted the ground next to her, then—
stirred her skirts out of the way,
and said:

come, you are welcome to sit here
with me –

and experience
the oracle of yourself….

so, i sat down with her….
peacefully, in the sun….

as the quiet took hold of us,
i felt like a lizard, maybe,
or some other life-form that needs this
warm radiance to feel alive….

my thoughts drifted back --
over this year of death,
heartbreak,
illness….

vulture medicine in play, i thought….

perhaps i must sit here until
i pick my own bones clean….

sitting next to the woman by the well,
i nodded off –

and the visions began….

a cougar at my shoulder….
warm and tawny –
she smelled like warm pelt….

i was woozy and unsure –
she gave the nape of my neck a tiny nudge,

then loped away….
power coiled in her muscles like springs….

befuddled, i tried to stir….
but lulled by the hum of the bees in the lavender,
i nodded off again….

then, through a crack in the night,
i saw a triangle of turquoise sky,
and a huge black raven, in
silhouette –

she sat in silence,
regal and affectionate….

no words,
no directions,
no messages….

suddenly, a fresh wind
stirred against my cheek --

my eyes opened to the
sweet golden light
of late afternoon….

i got up,
feeling dewy, and shaky,
like a newborn foal or fawn….

like i was fresh from a cocoon
and not ready for public viewing….

i walked over to the
edge of the cliff, and stood --

having no idea whether
i was going up or down….
but enjoying the view,
and the beautiful wind….

so now, as the days go by,
i sweep around the empty wells,
and dust off the pails and dippers, just in case….

i may have
no hopes for the future,
but i have an acceptance
of the now –

...before i left her that day,
i went back
to the woman at the well
to say goodbye –

she looked up
with her clear blue eyes
and said one last thing:

you've given all you had to your blossoming....

this emptiness is sacred….

it’s quiet….

and the beings are visiting….

all is well….

__________________
©2012
beth anne boardman