Late, late last night, when the whole world slept
Along to the garden of dreams I crept.
And I pulled the bell of an old, old house
Where the moon dipped down like a little white mouse.
I tapped the door and I tossed my head:
“Are you in, little girl? Are you in?” I said.
And while I waited and shook with cold
Through the door tripped Me” – just two years old.
I came to Baba Yaga seeking a fire stick and she sneered and told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was me that let the fire go out and that I would have to spend a lot of time making Descansos!
With that she flew off in her cauldron, leaving me to ponder the task of making endless lines of rope
So late, late, as night fell, I searched and found the photo of two year old me.
I kissed her, gave her a hug and made sure to tell her how precious she was/is.
Since Baba insists, I will go on making the rope, along with all the other tasks this feisty old crone has set.
I will wind and twist my strands of material and ever so respectfully, cover the things I uncover.
So here lies my two year old self, the one with sharply forged intuition, carefully wrapped and tucked within my ball for safe keeping. Like Vasalisa’s doll she will be with me and guide me as I obey Baba Yaga’s commands.