SHE showed up this morning
In the form of a dead wild boar
Laying across the path where I had intended to walk
Stopped in my tracks, literally.
Catapulted back to nights spent nursing sick pigs willing them to live to draw one more breath
Acutely aware of the duality that at a future point in time that I would be bringing them to slaughter.
But this is not why I sat with them in the wee small hours, singing, praying, cajoling, weaving energy out and spiralling new life back in.
A primal desire to live, them and me
Did I know the incantations for life?
I used to.
Breathing in the smells of death and the musk of her wildness
Unwilling to leave her here all by herself
So I left her corpse and took her spirit
Carried it with me back up the mountain, home.
Seeing her legs as my legs carrying me forward
I know this stubborn wilfulness so well.
Protection for the softness of the underbelly
Hers lying exposed and open bleeding back into the earth.
Is that enough, to return to the mother?
Was it enough to live and to be witnessed by me?
Would it be better if my neighbours had found her
so they could make use of her bones and her sinew and her flesh?
Medicine carrier for truth and courage and confrontation
What will I do with this wild spirit called life
That is also a part of me?
Image by ravenari.deviantart.com