Winter Labor Pains Poem by Steven Silent Wolf

Two cold deep darks
with dancing stars and tardy moons
compress the narrow light
to morning all day long
The midnight sun
full-mooned by fog
laves both my half froze feet
my rump my hands
My lips and mouth draw hard
on willow wand
that penetrates the rock - Inyan - first born
that sepulchres the dead
the dry browned bits of twigs and herbs
that crackle red
aglow to warm the stone
the bowl - the womb
and witness to dividing
of the autumned forms of life
to smoke and ash
through fire that warms
the holding hand that cups
the living stone - Inyan - first born
that lifted
edges up the light - the sun
through fog and smoke
gives it a nudge - a smile
the pining love it needs
to start it back
a little north
to warm the half froze feet
that it has washed
and dried and warmed before
before
before it died
upon two woods
like willow wands
and penetrated stone - Inyan - first born
My heart is living stone
on fire