Hermit

Hot, hot enthusiasm…
Early morning, it’s still dark.
Alone she dances,
ready to face the day,
ready to tear apart
the vultures and leaches of the world
with diamond-sharp claws
(A light-saber of truth,
in her chelipeds).
She’s seen blue skies, and a thousand stormy sea nights,
relentlessly pounding cracks in her shell
too hurt, too shattered, too broken, self-made Hell.
Now those experiences form a viscous gold,
seals the cracks,
solidly, with remarkable and versatile
Wisdom and Courage.
At 6 am, I’ll dance alone,
not lonely,
at Home
In my niche of the world,
I’ve burrowed in the sand.