My Winter Sprite

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i am reaching south
i embrace sky with birds in flight
arms wrapped in purple morning strands
my voice is a jewel
i have dark eyes
purple straw hair
blossoms echo of spring
on my left & on my right
— near each inner ear
my heart burns autumn
sacred stone at my neck
my belt is the oro boros
— snake revolving to itself —
my feet fly with the egrets & the eagle
underneath
i am oak
i am mossy
my face is honest Oklahoma clay
i am wound in white
i am wound in blue
i am wound in my birth on the tree
and my life tangled in the weeds
wound amoung the tall grass & the twigs
i reveal i conceal
i am wound in my birth
i am wound in my future
my jewel showing the path
my autumnal heart throwing moonlight on the Way

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You may read Linda's poetic response to this figure in her entry "A Winter Sprite" on Sunday, Oct. 5, at Papal Poems.