Letter to the Women in the Woods-here, WisdomWoods

For every idea deemed true, there needs to be a dialectic where the idea is false; to make paradox in such a way builds a drama that logics cannot empower. This needs to be how I regard my fulfilling womanlinesses. . . In the same way that even cisWomen are not fully feminine, I have to esteem my happy progress in the right biopsychosocial direction as incomplete. Until with some growth and development I menstruate and bearchild, I shall ever always be on-the-outside looking into Divinity, the Holiness of every woman who greets me, shuns me, loves me and yes indeed hates me. The Girls are especially adept at the flux-of-nature designated here, there is almost always-- except by some pseudo-manly act of will to contradict-- a waning of the Light the RedFire of Passion. Romantic love wilts. In time some conjugal peace treaty heals the alienation that does occur when Romance gets tired, looks elsewhere.

Yes when She-this-One-this-time leaves me, the understanding deepens, and so too does there improve in me the ability to love-better-next-time, and the wisdom, here in my eighth decade toward eternal bedding-down, a recognition without quarrel that there may not be a next time for Love.

Girls! In Hello and Goodbye, I now try to convey to You, Your 'periodics' have edified me, yes in blood and blessedness I must regard the Profundity of cycles into embrace and then,inevitable, exile (usually a forced-exile) Your Being. All of You are beautiful, all of You-- and me-- are in a Deep Woods where in my case survival demands such death as the emptying of my germseed into a Loam that Thou art. I empty; You are never empty. In the Yes and No of dialog with Thee, resilient peace makes wise and lasting foundation.