Garden

To escape the demands of my men's gentle commands, I enter the space that offers such grace in light and love
     The Garden.

She is feminine female fabulous--she is mine.

I feel my sisters, mothers, grandmothers, daughters dressed in lupine longing or lavender lengthening.  The seeds grow in tenderness and search.  Are we not the same?

The birds and insects worship her by spreading her story.  She is valued.  She is adored.

She is female.