I wanted faith
as the antidote
to the perennial tides of doubt.
My god I believe
in always
gave me questions
as the way
to solid ground.
I stand
on the crust
of the earth
with a preserved ocean
underneath its surface.
How do we find ourselves?
In ourselves.
Just as any myth we choose
did not happen,
but continues to happen.
I find my love
in discovery
in returning
in knowing
I am always more beautiful
when creating
than being consumed.
I am not only fruit.
I am mineral
anywhere I go.
So I wrap
ringwoodite —
locked water and rock —
around my sacred finger.
