I offered my bleeding heart to the Mountain,
in exchange for a bandage, a calm, an erasure.
And She smiled in her kind way and said the answer was to bleed.
To weep, to lose - or was it [loose].
She would not remove
She would not block
the weeping water over the trees now planted on the crags of my face,
becoming more Force than nature.
By Rebecca Cooper
©Rebecca Cooper 2020
Photo Credit: Rebecca Cooper/Aduro Images