The gargle hum in the back of of my throat.  That was born of my belly.

The holding.

The crying out.

     Of the gods

          of my sisters

               of my mothers

The dissolving

     of boundaries

          of binds

               of barriers

The urgent whispers

     to return

          to rise up

               to relinquish

The sound of a flower 

filling my nose

     to my heart

     my lips burn

     with words

     and prayers

     and power

Frozen and free

I am held.

     I am home.

          I hold it down.

              I offer it up.

                    I am risen.