By Malinda Meadows
There was something different about her
Like a tuning fork in her brain
So many ways it did and did not
Continue to make her sane.
Sending out the signals
And receiving them
Knowing the many ways that exist
To say and mean amen
“So be it” echoed in many tongues
Singing a song by their bed at night
makes the soul arise and take flight
Into the web of connection
That pulses with history
The invisible webs connecting us;
The divine mystery
That pale like the moon yonder breaks
And heals and breaks again
With a fear overtaken
With a portion approaching zen.
And so she rises again
To face another day
To sing like the daffodils
In the month of May.
Poems of the yantra 