Butterflies

(notes on the second summer five-women gathering)

Let us melt

into the soft, orgasmic

surrender

where everything that we’ve accumulated —

the triumphs and the woes,

the stories of what’s happened,

the win and lose of what we have become —

dissolve into imaginal potential

for our metamorphosis

into our own.

What we have called a false start

or called a failure,

or called a choice that didn’t do us good,

all serve as food for our unfoldment,

unmarred by scars from anything we’ve done.

Here in this company

we feel our wings expanding

just like our hearts

that hold each other whole —

the selves we own

by seeing them reflected

in kindred eyes that shine the light of Soul.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 10, 2013