by Ethel Mortenson Davis
In my dream
I was in a forest, just born.
(I was given a second chance.)
My old beginning
was an old skin,
discarded and left behind,
one covered with pain
and suffering,
one I had separated from
and left on the forest floor
behind me.
Here, I was born
into a loving family,
one who welcomed me
and esteemed me.
The she-wolf nurtured me
(animals take care of their young)
as I clung tight to her soft hair.
She spoke to me.
Her close-set eyes cautioned me.
“When you feel danger
leave that place.
You will always have danger
and enemies.
“If you are wounded
go back to your beginning.
And there in the quiet
and coolness you will heal.”
She taught me how to live.
“Take care of your reality
at hand. Take care
of your young first.”
She taught me how to die.
“Death is a passage
to another beginning.
Remember, there is always
hope.”
The soft winds of the forest
rocked me to sleep.
The evening primroses
caressed me with their sweet water.
My life was full,
And I was happy.
When I awoke
I knew I had begun again.
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