the shapeshifter

The cave you fear to enter

holds the treasure you seek.

-Joseph Campbell

artist Bucky Wilcox

Underneath the sleeping at the surface

there is a stirring that begins at the center 

that reminds you of the days you roamed 

the open spaces, 

prowled the wilder places, 

lived in freer lands.  

A stirring that pulls you back to the beginnings of you, 

to rocky outcroppings, 

hard-packed earthen floors,

and the fire lit cave where you were dreamed into shape.

You came in the form of stars 

that howled their way 

into bodies

of blood and bone and fur and teeth.

You were stalked in the meadows, 

the forests, 

the plains;

you were driven into the sea.

You emerged on the foam of waves

caught in the midst of buoyant seaweed ropes;

entangling each flailing limb,

snarling your legs

with words 

and the flame of living visions

that pulled and sucked at your toes

until at last,

half-buried in the demand of your dreams,

you shifted shape again.

These dreams that rooted you down,

serpentine,

sinuous,

twining anchors that fastened you to the center heat,

molten spiraling coils,

hardening bark skin,

and an endless reaching 

toward a waiting sky

and green leafy daydreams of sap

and spring

and bursting seeds.

And the stirring returned as the days became short
the winter winds carved the rock you became
from the wood you once were
hollowing out
the shape of a circle...

You've transformed once more.
You have become the cave
that gave you life
and watch,
wiser,
as new life begins again at your center.
A warm glow fills the space;
the stars have returned,
a howling ensues-
She's come near.