Issue Two - October 2001

Between the Worlds

By White Bear Woman

It is night.
Morning will come,
but now, everyone I have ever loved
is sleeping.
My eyes are open, caught
between heart and mind,
breath caged and still.
These hours when the body
longs to fly
are the most holy and
most fierce.
What makes us dream and
what makes us wake
holds still deciding.

©2001 White Bear Woman

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