G Spot


By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

SHE has awakened, every morning at the same time. Not today. Today she woke up with the purple sky and a half-moon, a lazy eye awakening to the light. So serene, she thought, to be among the stars.

Somewhere far away, a forest burns. In the land where loggers gloat and where human vultures roam the halls of power, there appears to be a gathering, a wake. Hers. Except that, she is no longer there. She was carried by the flowers through the Great Beyond to the Ever Present. She found her heart, beating everywhere. She is united, at one with the pulse of the Earth.


the sky weeps
even as the sun shines
as the air she breathes
now breathes among
the trees

the rivers, where the trees
and bodies flow,
where vultures dance
with the falling of flowers,
new flowers bloom
emerging from the deep
surviving in between
human remains
and what remains
after greed

she lives.
a flicker of life
in the roots of a jungle
where the wild ensures
the survival of the fittest
and humans coexist
with the darkness
and the dimming of light

she knows.
she, like all the others
carried by the wildflowers
in the darkness, is nurtured by it,
in the heart that sustains,
the future of seeds.

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