Sketching queitly,
soothes a heart
which is shaking
with exhaustion….
This inner child
is held by the
mother of all things….
and therein is her safety.

The winds howl and rage

against the wild, flailing branches

yet she is nestled
in the belly of the Mother tree

It was so hard to
trust when being
alive was so dangerous……
Here she hides
until she is grown up
and holding herself
against these ferocious winds.

e …..
I