The Call to Self

Scattering my rough, cold, small stones
around my shilly shallowing feet,
each step placed like a golden egg
upon the cool, greening moss,
I smile at you, seeing you smile at me…
Your small stones jangling in your pocket
are singing,
but you –
you cannot hear them…..
When did you lose your intuitively lucid
beliefs about your voice, when others
with less ancestral vocal bone,
spewed out stories so far less connected to the earth?
Seshat calls you to share your wisdom now……
I need to hear you hearing yourself as you
scatter each glorious stone
according to your quiet wisdom
and engrave each one as it drops around your feet,
dancing, Lightly.