Show Me The Way Out

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Suddenly it’s September. It’s that back to school time and with it come fresh binders and new crayons. With it come layered clothes and fenders on bikes, new focus, fresh starts and a sense of diligence that the time is now, it’s time to work.


Away with summer and all that’s accumulated while I’ve been out of the house, soaking in what’s been left of this blessed season. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks mourning the loss of summer while re-doing my work space, living space, organizational-system and plans for what art I’m going to get up to making while the night closes in on our days. Purging books and binders from my past lives as student or boss or enthusiast, I came across a binder from a Women’s Integral Intensive I attended many moons ago when I first started diving in. I opened it up to a page with this poem on it, which as you will read, has Sacred Sunday written all over it.

So I share it with you in honour of these shifting seasons, in honour of the turning leaves, the promise of change, the coming of death and the call to, moment by moment, turn towards the divine. 

Show Me the Way Out    

 Like a silkworm weaving

her house with love

from her marrow,

and dying

in her body’s threads

winding tight, round

and round,

I burn

desiring what the heart desires.

Cut through, O lord,

my heart’s greed,

and show me

your way out…


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