Sacred space

There is a place,

a sacred space,

that belongs to

no other person

but me.


It is my jewel,

but it is worth nothing

in material terms,

for it is simple quiet

and reflective perfection,

like an oasis


on a dusty hot day.


I run to its perfection

and do not want to leave.

Why would I when it is

set apart,

as my womb and refuge,

where I grow

and change,

and find restoration,

ready for emergence

in the newness of each day.