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Sometimes when the Dove
Exposes herself
The raptors encircle
The vultures close in
Seeking to plug into that energy
And drain every drop of blood.

How to support her
In her splendor
So she may fly where she is needed
So she may enjoy life in
The freedom of being
Her gentle self.

The balance of Goddess. The drawing of lines. (Boundaries.) The acknowledgement and expulsion of dark energies. The creation of space. The multiplication of eternal self.

I wave my wings upon the earth
A feather drops to the ground
It gets picked up by the Observer
Who turns it into a quill;

On the tablet of life
We shade in the dark places
Whiting out all the lights

To Dream.

_The Observer_