Storm Circles

Storm Circles

Tonight, I am casting a circle
here at water's edge,
New Orleans a pebble skip
across the Gulf of Mexico.

The red tide's now gone underground
slumbering from Katrina's spell.
We all live downstream.
We all draw from the same well.

A mix of mother's milk,
blood, sweat, urine, tears,
a potion of remembering
we are all in this together.

The hurricane has called
old mermaids from the deep.
They are floating to the surface.
They are growing human legs.

The mermaids are walking among us
singing circle songs:
We are all connected.
We all belong to the One.

Whatever dark desires come
and stir the senses,
in the eye of the storm,
in the center of the circle
we are still. Help us dance.


Published in issue #6 of BackStreet Quarterly--Poetry from the Backstreets of America
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