She Thinks With Her Blood (a poem)

She thinks with her blood

in vivid color

radiating with heat

Her mind is in constant motion

ebbing and flowing like the tide

with the rhythm of the moon

In her head one moment

elsewhere the next

It rushes to a quickening of the lungs

picks up sunshine from her skin 

ever moved by gut feelings

It touches the world in her hands

then on to her womb and the fluttering therein

The wise woman avoids the toxins of the liver

while the fool grows jaundiced with worry

What man can know the mind of a woman? 

As soon as he’s discerned a hint of clarity

she’s away down another artery

Her mind is never in the same place for long

but it always returns to her heart

She thinks with her blood 

but it’s everywhere at once

Balancing a basket on one hip 

and a child on the other

Shouldering a phone to her ear 

closing a deal 

earning her pay

While simultaneously cooking dinner

wiping snot

directing the family circus

She juggles a thousand thoughts at once

each connected

none neglected

​

Who can plumb the depths of her heart? 

She wants everything and nothing

passion and routine

adventure and security

a strong arm around her 

and a loose grip upon her

She wants the thrill and the still

In her mind she’s often bright 

always right

never trite

sometimes looking for a fight

She thinks with her blood

her mind is both wild and brilliant

like water flowing over rocks

both ordered and disordered

directable but never controllable

Her secret purposes are unguessable

hidden from view within her chest

Her mind, her marvelous mind, is beautiful

through and through

© D. B. Ryen Incorporated, March 2021.