I stood long at their doorway,
Looking in upon their world.
Longing, yes, and also fearing
If I entered I’d be destroyed.
Yet I have the music in me,
A symphony of cells,
Spells to break their old contract,
Spells to claim my ancient power.
Now I am a cottonwood tree,
My roots are deep and strong.
My seeds are songs, my songs are spells,
And I have spells aplenty.
Spells to heal,
Spells to grow.”
