poems

Bonewind’s Return

Bone wind has returned November 2013 009
mother of winter’s chill
sweeping through bare branches
and rattling dusty leaves.

The remnants of summer
have completely faded
and the doorway to the new year
has cracked open.

With the skeletal swirl of frost and freeze
I see the hint
of new things
waiting to burst from behind the door

Hibernating now perhaps
hunkered down to wait it out
resting, biding time, percolating
nestled in darkness
but, oh so ready, to grow.

It is only on the surface
that the world prepares to take a long nap
underneath the crust
change boils
life bubbles
new ideas gestate
and time crowns anew
with the promise and potential of birth
held in cupped hands.

The flame of fresh ideas flickers
and catches
until the blaze of possibility
envelopes the cold.

Winter is falling across the woods and I find myself filled with an amazing sense of promise and potential about the new year. 2103 has held a lot of transition for my family, it has held the grief of my grandmother’s death, as well as changes aplenty–some changes that are beautifully enriching, creatively inspiring, and relationship enhancing and some changes that have been difficult, sad, trying, and frustrating. Ever since the wind turned towards fall, I’ve felt a sensation of “fall cleaning.” Sweep it out, start fresh, begin again, take a break, pause, regroup, reform, re-try, launch, begin, start new things…I’ve felt it practically in terms of rearranging my house and going on various decluttering missions, but I also feel it inside—my own purpose, focus, priorities, and projects.

In the past I wrote about what I termed the bone wind here: Woodspriestess: Bonewind | WoodsPriestess

Categories: endarkenment, holidays, nature, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Deer Woman

Deer Woman October 2013 007
running free
choosing her path carefully.
Stepping delicately
on crunchy leaves
picking her way through rocky hillsides
cautious, aware, watchful, knowing.

What’s that?
A sound.
Her ear is tuned
to the heartbeat of the earth
she walks in time with the wind
she is cleansed by raindrops and dew
and the fire of her own sweet breath
as she nestles with her fawn in secret places.

She knows the dark privacy of the forest
the cool side of the mountain
the warm sun of the field
she knows the taste of grapes on her tongue
the feel of wind on her back
and the joy of leaping, unbound.October 2013 088

She may appear timid and wary
yet she will not be boxed in
she will not be caged
she will not be fenced
she will dance wild and free
in moonlight
in sunlight
on stone
and on grass
in field and valley
running, running
and calling your name.

Come run with me
be free
leap the fences
leaving behind that which is narrow and confining
and sip the sweet raindrops by my side.

Watch
pay attention
assess
gauge
be alert and cautious
and run.
Run like the wind.
Wherever the beat of your heart
and Gaia’s horn might lead. October 2013 059

I don’t really relish having to wear hunter’s orange when I head down to the woods lately. The sound of nearby gunshots encroaches on my sacred ground and makes me feel a sense of risk. Tonight while standing on the rocks feeling uncertain rather than peaceful, I remembered that I wrote a poem called Deer Woman a couple of months ago and never published it. It felt obvious that the time has now come!

I originally composed this poem when startling some deer away from the rocks by accident several months ago. They’re often there in the morning, making me think of the other woodspriestesses who visit the same spot that I call “mine,” but which is home to many and belongs only to itself.

“In a way Winter is the real Spring – the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature.”
– Edna O’Brien

 Other poems in the Woman series are linked to here.

Categories: nature, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

The Warrior-Priestess

October 2013 013

The last glory of my beautiful late October roses!

“We do not become healers. We came as healers. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.

We do not become storytellers. We came as carriers of the stories we and our ancestors actually lived. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.

We do not become artists. We came as artists. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.

We do not become writers, dancers, musicians, helpers, peacemakers. We came as such. We are. Some of us are still catching up to what we are.

We do not learn to love in this sense. We came as Love. We are Love. Some of us are still catching up to who we truly are.”

–Clarissa Pinkola Estes

On my other blog this week, I wrote:

When I attended the GGG this year, one of the realizations I came home with is that sometimes I feel like people are trying to get me to be less (more about this some other time). And, I remembered a session I had with a healer who did a somatic repatterning process with me—one of the beliefs she tested on me was, “I am not enough.” It got a marginal response, but then she tested, “I am TOO MUCH.” And, THAT is the one that tested as true. I wonder how much about myself that I try to change or that I struggle with actually comes from the fear of being, too much. Too intense. Too active. Too talkative. Too much thinking, too much writing, too many ideas, too many projects, too much waving of my hands and pacing when I talk. Too, too, too, too much.

via Blogging, Busyness, and Life: Part 1 | Talk Birth.

After writing the post above, I tuned in to ALisa Starkweather’s free call about embracing your fierce, feminine life. In a very poignant moment of synchronicity, she was talking about being “big” and “small” and that we are all both and can be both, but sometimes we are scared to be “big.” I also recently finished my final paper for my The Role of the Priestess course at OSC. One of the things I realized in the process of writing the three lengthy papers required for the course was that I’m still struggling with issues of insecurity and perfectionism. I also need more approval that I’d like to need and I am less self-confident than I’d like to be.  I very often place pressure on myself to be perfect and I’ve noticed that accepting the priestess call has added another layer of something-at-which-I-try-to-be-perfect-and-when-I’m-not-I-feel-like-a-terrible-person-who-doesn’t-deserve-the-name. After having a slightly-insecure conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago, I returned to a quote from Judy Harrow in an article we read for the Role of the Priestess course:

Mentors must never come to need our students to idealize us. As frightening as the pedestal is at first, it’s also frighteningly easy to get used to being up there. Whoever carries the idealizing projections of others can begin to believe in them and to enjoy the deference they elicit. If we succumb to this temptation, we put our own spiritual health in danger along with that of our students. Needy mentors will probably develop patterns of people pleasing and codependency. They will find it difficult to confront students on inconsistent or inappropriate behavior. They will be weak, and come across as weak, depriving students of exactly the perception of safety and security that they so need… –Judy Harrow

Oh no! I thought. I’m weak. Letting someone else see the self-doubt I tend to experience makes me a bad leader. ::::sob:::: Obviously, since I’m now writing about it, I’ve had a change of heart—while I don’t want to be so needy that I appear weak, I also don’t want to pretend to be so in-the-know and confident all the time that I prevent or inhibit authentic connection and shared human experience. When ALisa got ready to start the call, she posted on FB that she was “shaking in her skin.” That didn’t make me think she was weak, that made me think she was real and I heard that.

A lovely video from ALisa’s call is available here:

(Loved the song!)

The other thing I realized as I wrote my papers and pondered my lack-of-adequate-perfection, was that I really struggle with permission to be irritable/angry sometimes. That is one of the things that to me is just not allowed. Must always be nice and calm. However, since I do actually get irritable and snappy and critical and stressy-wigged out, I’ve then failed. Not good enough, again, dang it. And, I’m back to “who does she think she is” and “I don’t deserve this title/role/calling.”

<should I even write this, she thinks. Weak?!?!>

So…I went back to my saved recordings, since my inner machinations seemed very familiar, and I listened to a recording from several days prior:

October 2013 075A priestess does not always have to be nice
good
perfect
serene
calm.

A priestess can be fierce
she can be sharp
she can be a warrior
she can guard the temple
she can stand up
speak out.

A priestess is powerful
she is a woman who owns her own power
steps into her own life
and her own destiny
wearing the mantle
until it settles so deeply around her
that it becomes rooted in her bones and belly
as who she is
in every moment of every day.

October 2013 111

One of my Halloween costumes this year. I was carrying my son’s toy sword for him at a party and a friend said, “warrior priestess!” And, I thought, *exactly*! 😉

A priestess will not be run over
she will not be downtrodden
she will not be oppressed
she will say NO
she will speak firmly
she will draw boundaries
she will hold space
with both tenderness and ferocity.

She will defend
she will build up
she will protect
she will guard
she will lead
she will serve
she will teach
she will share
she will not be silenced.

She will not stuff down or deny her own rough edges
in favor of a myth or a mystique
she will DO IT
she will keep trying
she will stand tall
she will lift her head
and she will say yes when she hears the call…

Then, I did one of the online free readings from Gaian Soul Tarot and I got this:

20131029-100812.jpg

Unbelievably exact and what I needed to hear. The instructions say to trust your own intuitive reading of the cards before reading the text and I got it. I really did. 🙂

20131028-184958.jpg

I offer what I offer
I give what I give
I share what I share
I am who I am…

Categories: poems, prayers, priestess, spirituality, theapoetics, women's circle, woodspriestess | 7 Comments

Sunday Sabbath: An Irish conachlann

October 2013 130

New projects I’ve been working on with my husband this week!

I follow the footsteps of my foremothers Foremothers who
gave birth to me Me, a priestess of the Goddess Goddess we
draw down to us Us, the People of the Earth Earth that
supports us all All life, even you and I I follow the footsteps
of my foremothers.

–Elizabeth Barrette
Charleston, Illinois

in Talking to Goddess, edited by D’Vorah Grenn

(Formatting as the original)

Categories: art, blessings, Goddess, poems, quotes, readings, sabbath, theapoetics | Leave a comment

Alchemist

October 2013 003

Earth alchemy. This little mother-of-millions plant has been struggling along since last winter when I friend gave it to me. After quite a few months of expecting the plant to keel over, it finally seems to have found its strength this summer and I think it is going to survive after all!

The miracle is in
the capacity of your eyes
to distinguish
an ordinary tree
from a sun-crowned
gently nodding
green cathedral.

To realize a faucet
is a dispensary
of wet, braided light.

To regard
your own left hand
as an astonishing feat
of animation.

The alchemist
who changes
a rabid
gnashing world
into unstoppable
tender music
is none other
than you.

by Natascha Bruckner (in We’Moon 2013)

I’m getting ready to make a new order of We’Moon datebooks for 2014 and I’ve been going through the 2013 edition looking back over the sections I’d marked and enjoyed and this poem caught my eye. One of the things that I’ve so enjoyed about my woodspractice this is the the opportunity to study very in-depth the alchemy of the woods, of the planet, and my interaction with it. There is so much that I’ve noticed that I would have overlooked without the daily contact. Like this rose…

October 2013 022

Deciding to make a go of it even though it is October now…

October 2013 031

Spreading open after the rain…

October 2013 041

And then so perfect and beautiful and rich that I actually gasped when I saw the picture come up on my computer.

 Of course, I planted this rose, so it isn’t quite the same as observing what Nature planted on her own, but it is definitely a part of this alchemy—this interaction—between this patch of land and me.

Categories: nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics | Leave a comment

Be Still

Sept 2013 006

My beautiful new moonstone ring!

Be still and know that I am she

She who kisses your eyelids with sunshine
Blesses your brow with raindrops
Lifts cares from your shoulders

She who rises with the sun
And who holds the night sky
She who holds you firmly
While spinning in space

Rooted
Grounded

Drawing it up
Feeling it settle in your belly and heart and bones

She who cradles eternity in her broad arms
And can never be lost.

One of the things I realized while at the Gaea Goddess Gathering this year was that not everything has to be a story. I don’t have to turn everything  think about into a blog post. I spend a lot of time looking at the world through blogger eyes, apparently, and I was surprised how often I thought or said, “I have a blog post about this” or, “I’m going to put this in a blog post” or “I have a draft post on my blog related to this.” I kind of started to get on my own nerves with it, though I also kind of started to see it as a joke too. Right before we left for our trip, my husband finished cutting, shaping, polishing, and setting a beautiful moonstone that we found during our trip to California into a ring for me. The stone was set a little high and I worried what if I lose it. He said it would be okay and he could make another, this would be kind of trial run (for his stone-setting skills). Well, at some point on Saturday night I DID lose it. I was pretty horrified. Though it is tiny and it was ridiculous of me, I wandered all around looking for it. I have a good “finding power” usually in that if I am still for a moment and focus on the item in question, I often then go to exactly where it is. After fruitless wandering, I decided to do this. I stood in the sunshine and collected my energy. Then, I walked until I got to a spot that said “stop” to me. I stood there with my eyes closed and the sun shining on my face and I thought…again…”if I look down and there it is, this will make a great story.” Instead, I got the poem above. And, when I looked down, there was no moonstone.

Some time ago, made a very, very tiny pocket altar to carry in my purse. I searched all over for a little rose quartz goddess of Willendorf sculpture that I knew I had and wanted to include in the tiny altar. I was not able to find it. After returning from the GGG and having the insight that I’d been WAY too attached to the previous year’s experience to fully appreciate the current year, I decided to go down to my woods and untie the medicine bundle I’d made during last year’s GGG. I thought about doing this before leaving and I really wish I would have. It felt like both a figurative and literal “untying” of the experience from last year and an unbinding my life, my attachments. It was a beautiful experience to be in the woods at sunrise, unbinding my bundle and letting go. And, there in the bundle was that tiny rose quartz goddess. I guess I did get my story 😉

 Sept 2013 114 Sept 2013 115 After my unbinding ritual, I walked slowly back to the house feeling light and contemplative. Inside, before anyone else woke up, I typed up all of my reflections and insights from this year’s GGG. I felt integrated, settled, whole, and at peace. I went to do laundry and when I was in the room, I thought of something else to include in my list (which was going to be a later blog post). I returned to my screen where the insightful note had been waiting for me and it was gone. Never to be recovered. I could NOT believe it. All my insights! All my wisdom! Gone! I have to start over…But, then I really just had to laugh (and cry a little), because here was another insight, another lesson, another hiccup in my story. And, not everything has to be a blog post after all….

Sept 2013 117

The tie that bind—the wrappings from my medicine bundle from 2012 and a piece of amber from 2013 left in a broken goddess bowl in a nook in the rocks.

Sept 2013 116

Everything lost is found again…

Categories: GGG, poems, ritual, spirituality, theapoetics | 1 Comment

Moonpriestess

Moonmaiden  Sept 2013 023
Moonmother
Moonpriestess

She tilts her face to the sky
she opens her arms wide
she draws it down
clean
healing
holy moonlight
enlivening her being
lightening her footsteps
and guiding her path

Moon guide
moon guardian
shining one
sacred spirit
we call upon you
for healing
for wisdom
for inspiration
for guidance

You connect us
in sacred rhythm
to the heartbeat
of the planet
the pull
of the tides
the pulse
of our blood.

We hope
we laugh
we sing
we pray
we dance
by your light
in your rhythm
we drum
in your sacred power

Keeper of ancient wisdom
witness to unfathomable eons
may we be forever
inspired by our connection to you
enlivened by your wisdom
and guided by your truth

Moonpriestess
Moonmama
Moon maiden

Thank you
blessed be.

This was the second of two poems/prayers that I wrote before leaving for the Gaea Goddess Gathering. During the festival the moon was full and beautiful and as it crested over the trees at the top of the ridge where the main rituals and drum circles were held, it literally felt like it was energizing the circle. We also noticed a cool morning effect during which the full moon and sunrise could be witnessed at the same time.

Sept 2013 054And, the following morning I took a misty morning, sunrise stroll around the lake with my sister-in-law. During last year’s GGG, I was too focused on recovering from my hornet sting to really connect to the land. This year, I didn’t expect to connect with the land, since I’m already so connected to my own land, but I connected anyway. The lake is beautiful in the morning sunrise and so was Venus Sanctuary (a little meadow near the lake).

Sept 2013 097

Categories: blessings, GGG, Goddess, invocations, liturgy, moontime, nature, poems, prayers, priestess, spirituality, theapoetics | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Brigid

Brigid 20130924-090026.jpg
She of the Sacred Oak
She of the Sacred Flame
She who ignites our creativity
and who forges our passions.

Sacred smith
shaping lives
in the cauldron of destiny
healing
tending
guarding
loving

She who spills forth
in the language of poetry
and falling leaves
She who flickers from the candle’s flame
and the blacksmith’s coal
She whose hands open to receive new life and new ideas
She who can be called upon
in any hour
of any day

Brigid
Sacred Guardian
keeper of flame
hope and hearts.

You are summoned to us
to enliven our work
to guide our steps
and to inspire our message.

May it be so.

Brigid is a Triple Goddess of Fire: the fire of poetic inspiration and creative voice, the fire of health and fertility, and the fire of metalwork and crafts.

Brigid is an ancient Irish goddess later syncretized into the Christian saint Brigit. Her abbey was referred to as the Church of the Sacred Oak, the word for which later evolved into modern day Kildare. Her sacred wells are usually located near sacred oak trees, sometimes referred to as “clootie” trees, in which pilgrims hang prayers, blessings, wishes, and requests for healing. When I decided to be a merchant at this year’s Gaea Goddess Gathering at Camp Gaea in Kansas, I knew I wanted to have something affordable to offer at my booth that would connect to Brigid, the honored Goddess this year. I decided to make a simple “Sacred Oak” pendant with the idea that it would help the wearer to carry her healing presence throughout their day and “hang” their wishes upon her sacred oak whenever they want! The red cord represents her sacred flame.

I’ve started a new etsy shop with a broader focus than the birth/motherhood oriented focus of my original Talk Birth shop. I’ll be maintaining both shops as sister shops though and migrating some of the items from it into my new one.

I have quite a bit to say about this year’s GGG, but I’m saving that for another post! (which will hopefully take less than a year to write…)

Brigid's Temple at the GGG

Brigid’s Temple at the GGG

 

Categories: blessings, GGG, Goddess, poems, prayers, readings, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 2 Comments

Woodspriestess: Blood Ties

Sept 2013 004The blood of many species
swirls around me
The blood of many mothers
runs through me
The blood of many generations
comes from me

The blood of earth
feeds me
The blood of the Goddess
holds me

We dance together
in an ancient ecstasy
blood deep
bone rich
holy, potent, and pure.

The blood of creation
The blood of inspiration
The blood of sacrifice
and renewal…

Categories: Goddess, moontime, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Goddess Body, World Body

This post is reprinted from my column at the SageWoman blogs.

“Here is your sacrament
Take. Eat. this is my body
this is real milk, thin, sweet, bluish,
which I give for the life of the world…
Here is your bread of life.
Here is the blood by which you live in me.”
–Robin Morgan (in Life Prayers, p. 148)

All religion is about the mystery of creation. If the mystery of birth is the origin of religion, it is women that we must look for the phenomenon that first made her aware of the unseen power…Women’s awe at her capacity to create life is the basis of mystery. Earliest religious images show pregnancy, rather than birth and nurturing, as the numinous or magical state” (Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor, The Great Cosmic Mother, p. 71)

I am working on a thesis project about birth as a spiritual experience. As I collect my resources, the quotes above keep running through my head. Birth as the original sacrament. Breastfeeding as the original communion. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, women transmute blood into breath, into being, into life for others.

Abrahamic theology in its root mythology, sets up the male body as “normal” as well neatly includes the notion that there is a divine hierarchy in which men are above women in value, role, and power. It also twists reality, by asserting that women come from men’s bodies, rather than the other way around. This inversion didn’t begin with Christianity, it has roots in more ancient mythology as well. Connected to the conversion of women’s natural creative, divine-like powers of the womb into the originators of sin and corruption, we readily see the deliberate inversion of the womb of the Goddess into the head of the father in the gulping down of Metis by Zeus and the subsequent birth of Athena from his head. Patriarchal creation myths rely heavily on biologically non-normative masculine creation imagery. I really appreciated the brief note from Sjoo in The Great Cosmic Mother that, “In later Hindu mysticism the egg is identified as male generative energy. Whenever you come upon something like this, stop and ponder. If it is absurdly inorganic—male gods ‘brooding on the waters’ or ‘laying eggs’—then you know you are in the presence of an original Goddess cosmology stolen and displaced by later patriarchal scribes” (p. 56).

Modern-day diet culture may actually be as potent an agent of female body control and manipulation as ancient church doctrine. And, where there are wounded, denied, oppressed, and suppressed female bodies, there is an exploited world body as well. Women who retain their “wild natures” see value in “wild nature,” rather than seeing nature as something to be dominated, exploited and controlled. Diet culture encourages this attitude of domination of bodies and restraining of physical, “earthy” impulses and needs—no wonder we see this same basic attitude of domination and control carried out in the macrocosm as well. Womb ecology reflects world ecology, world ecology reflects womb ecology…

According to Melissa Raphael in her book Thealogy and Embodiment, “Spiritual feminism consecrates flesh as something more than passive ‘fertility.’ The word ‘fertility’ cannot evoke the patriarchally uncontrollable generativity and proliferation of flesh. Spiritual feminism celebrates the bounty of flesh in the same moment that it celebrates the earth and the foods the earth produces in generous abundance” (p. 95).

Raphael also observes that, “where a woman’s embodiment is a manifestation of the Goddess that has a very different meaning than if that divinity were imaged as male…The Goddess, the earth, the female body are unified and charged with sacral powers for the transmutation of matter, for shape-shifting, and for the production of cosmogonic effluvia: blood, milk and water. This spiritual physiology of women is original but it is also subversive of and oppositional to its Western inheritance” (p. 76-77).

Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor explain that, “Childbirth is a powerful drama and ritual” (p. 47). Ancient herstory is rooted in the generative powers of the female body. “…the facts of women’s experience of life are primordial. It is woman who goes through the sacred transformations in our own body and psyche—the mystery-changes of menstruation, pregnancy, birth, and the production of milk…Women’s mysteries are blood-transformation mysteries: the experience of female bodily transformations of matter. Matter: the mud: the Mother. She transforms herself.” (Sjoo & Mor, p. 50-51)

In this recent poem, composed spontaneously while standing in the woods, I am interested to see how I made the world-body connection somewhat unconsciously in this “theapoetical” experience…

Sept 2013 021

Observation of the day yesterday: bumblebees on gigantically tall thistles behind the deck.

I stand
on the body of the Goddess
I sit on her bones
I breathe
her breath
Spirit of Life
moving through me
Her voice
sings in my blood
stars shine in my veins
my heartbeat
a drum
tuned to the core
of the planet
my womb
pulled by the tide
my rhythms
guided

Sept 2013 004

Delicate plant growing determinedly from strong rock.

by a distant moon
my cells springing
from hers
my heartsong
strummed
by ancient fingers
my passion
lit by wisdom
from within and without
my hope
kindled
each day
with my breath, blood, and pulse
I pray
I stand
on the body of the Goddess
I sit on her bones
I breathe
the breath of her lungs
I am one of her own…

Sept 2013 033

Bee and butterfly hanging out together.

One of the most profound elements of Goddess spirituality is its affirmation of and respect for women’s bodies and reproductive processes. In this affirmation, we can find a degree of overlap between feminist spirituality and process philosophy. As Carol Christ explains, “Process philosophy shares with feminist theology and thealogy a common interest in restoring the body and the world body, disparaged and denied in classical theism. What process philosophy has frequently failed to recognize is that restoring the body and the world body has enormous consequences for women. A feminist process paradigm will make feminist insight an integral part of process thinking. A feminist process paradigm will also ensure that process philosophers understand the body, the world body, and the divine body in physical terms and not simply as metaphysical concepts” (She Who Changes, p. 199). Christ also asks a profoundly meaningful question, “Is the source of the theological mistakes of classical theism a rejection of embodied life that begins with rejection of the female body? In other words, are the six theological mistakes embedded in a way of thinking that is inherently anti-female?” (200). She suggests that the answer is yes, that these theological mistakes are intimately tied up, “in denial of the changing body and the changing world, which is rooted in a way of thinking that is inherently anti-female” (She Who Changes, p. 200).

While, like thealogy, process thinking is grounded in experience, the emphasis on philosophical thinking can contribute to a lack of full engagement with the real world. In thealogy many quickly realize that it is a spirituality better lived than analyzed: “Don’t just read about the Goddess, LOVE HER, listen to Her, reflect Her as the Earth and Moon reflect the Sun.  Don’t just study Nature, put your hands in the dirt, your feet on the forest trail, turn your face to the wind and breathe Nature in and out of your lungs.  Feel the connection.  No books required.” (Esra Free, Wicca 404: Advanced Goddess Thealogy, 2007)

Sept 2013 018

Accidentally got this “take off” picture and I love it because of the pollen-laden legs!

Categories: Goddess, nature, poems, spirituality, thealogy, theapoetics, thesis, woodspriestess | 3 Comments

Inanna’s Ascent

Inanna’s Ascent

August 2013 011

Tiny goddesses as gifts for my friends. See the crack in the chalice? We all go through the fire and get cracked by life, but that’s how the light gets in!

by Deanna Emerson

I have seen the piercing eyes
of the dark goddess
as she stands naked in the silent shadows
planting the seeds of vision
reached into the arms
of my deepest sorrow and
looked into the eyes of death
yet the world dance did not cease.
By the light of the waning moon
I have seen the faces
of the shining ones and
taking the sword of wisdom
cut the cords that bind me.

August 2013 003

Altar space. The untidy red strips are for the hopes/fears for the “Kali” pot (I use quotation marks because its original identity was as a bean pot from an antique store! :))

Armed only with love
I have entered the healing
power of the moon
drawing it down around me
to enter the sacred womb
of the dark goddess and
turning pain into power

I have returned.

(In Casting the Circle by Diane Stein.)

During our last Rise Up class, we focused a lot on the dark goddess and the idea of endarkenment. There is wisdom and nurturance to be found in our dark places. We wrote down our fears and hopes and burned them in a “Kali” pot watching as the smoke transformed fear in the crucible of hopeful creation. The next day, I found this poem marked in one of my books and I wished I’d had it available to read during our class! August 2013 009  August 2013 016

Categories: friends, Goddess, poems, quotes, retreat, ritual, spirituality, theapoetics, womanspirit, women's circle | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Earth’s Symphony

Divine hum 20130831-190026.jpg
inner rhythm
insect chorus
bee priestesses.

Butterfly dance
leaf artist
heart beat.

Inhale
exhale
in time
with the symphony
of the Earth.

I wrote this in June after an afternoon woodsvisit during which I felt very conscious of the constant “hum” of the woods. So much living being done there. Yesterday, I noticed that some of the tiny flowers of summer that I photographed recently are humming with bees now and so the time felt right to finally share this poem. It makes me sad that in recent years seeing a bee has become like a special message or a special treat, rather than commonplace. It was good to see them buzzing and zooming and landing on these little faintly purple flowers.

At the same time that I wrote the poem, I also wrote the following:

I’m struggling with trust right now, disappointment, overwhelm, overcommitment. Twin pulls of longing. The desire to rest, draw inward, pull away, and be uninvolved and the desire to be committed, connected, involved, helpful, and impactful. These twin pulls are part of my monthly cycle, the ebb and flow of creativity and energy, and I’m learning to work within those cycles. To not make permanent changes, but also not to ignore legitimate calls for change, action, growth, and pruning away deadwood…

I’m definitely hanging on to work that might be finished. I’m hanging on with the desire to please, the stay connected, to give back, to honor experience, to be truthful, honest, authentic, rhythmic, wise, healing, compassionate, connected, whole, peaceful. Not exhausted…

Some things have changed in my life since I wrote this and I’m feeling more balanced and satisfied again. My grandma’s death has had a long-reaching effect on the whole family this year.

On the same woodsvisit in June, I also spoke this aloud…

You know what you need to do.
You know what you want. 20130831-190014.jpg
You know what you can offer.

When you’re angry
you need to say so
don’t let it build up
don’t let it simmer and fester
don’t let it lead to resentment and bitterness
let the pressure valve open.

Take care of yourself
be your own best friend
acknowledge dichotomies
dualism
paradoxes…

sit with them both
explore their edges
feel their contours
let rough places
surprise you
smooth out what you can
and always look 20130831-190019.jpg
for the glitter of buried treasure
hidden gems
unexpected lessons
and brief flashes of wisdom.

Focus.
focus and be
know and love
try and try again
apologize when necessary
say no when you need to
and say yes when you need to
balancing twin demands
with as much skill as you can muster
and with as much self-compassion
as you can excavate from your depths…

In other news, this is the two hundredth post on this blog (I’m over 800 on my other one–yikes!). I read once that consistent blogging produces a “significant body of work,” and it is totally true. Writing here has shaped my ideas, my thealogy, my plans for the future, and also my identity, as such, as a writer and artist (it was really hard not to put those two in quotes! Notice I didn’t also say “poet”…)

Thanks for reading, following, sharing, commenting, and encouraging! 🙂

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Categories: nature, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess, writing | Leave a comment

Woodspriestess: Summer’s Surrender

Tiny flowers of summer August 2013 016
Waving colorful flags
of the season’s surrender
against a backdrop of dry leaves

Lifting tender, hopeful
tenacious faces
parched but promising
a last hurrah
a final fling
a tiny majesty

Spots of glorious color
on dry ground

Proof of life’s own love affair with itself.

August 2013 023Speaking of love affairs, I had one with the tiny flowers of spring and I’m having another with the tiny flowers of summer. It is like a religious experience to me to discover the ever-changing tableau of what Nature has planted for us all season long. I love that these tiny flowers bloom whether I notice them or not. I love that they grow without me watering them or tending them. I love how they emerge in unlikely, unsuspecting places, such as the floor of the greenhouse or between cracks in stone or from piles of gravel. I love that they’re here, doing their own tiny thing, even as the leaves begin to fall from the trees and the winds shift towards autumn. They’re going to keep being beautiful, dang it, as long as they can. I’ve had a mini obsession with spotting them and taking pictures of them over the last two days. I don’t know the proper names for many of them and I also know that several of them turn into nuisance things like burs, but I see them. I’ve noticed and paid attention and this visual experience is my sweet reward. In this photo gallery, the only flowers pictured not planted by Nature are the roses, which are currently experiencing a delightful last hurrah as well, even after a major assault by Japanese beetles this year. Also pictured is a cute mushroom 🙂

Perhaps not coincidentally, I was also inspired to make some fresh new goddesses this week with a floral motif! (available in my updated etsy shop) 🙂

August 2013 036

   And, in past odes to tiny flowers I have known:

Woodspriestess: Tiny Flowers

Tiny flowers know
that hope blooms eternal August 2013 044
pushing the way
through cracked stone
reclaiming
repopulating
rebirthing the Earth

What is a seed
but a miracle
right in front of me

What am I
but a miracle
to be seeing this right now…

Woodspriestess: The Language of Spring

A blush of green begins

Delicate lace of wild plums
Graces gray forestscapes August 2013 042

Heartbeat in the forest sings
The passion of life untapped.
The soul of the world
is speaking the language of spring.

Woodspriestess: Stoneflower | Theapoetics

Like flower growing from rock
the world is full of tiny, perfect mysteries.
Secrets of heart and soul and landscape
guarded tenderly
taking root in hard crevices
stretching forth
in impossible silence.

And, while traveling: Sunday Sabbath: Tiny Desert Flowers

Tender green shoot in unlikely place
Tenacious tapestry of life
This weaving unfolding before my eyes
This is my religion.

August 2013 041

Categories: art, nature, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 1 Comment

Woodspriestess: Medicine Woman

Medicine Woman 20130820-150831.jpg

She who heals

Reaching out
strong hands
supple wrists
cleansing touch
place your hand in hers
and you will feel it…

Energy
passing from one to another
conduit of grace
and repair.

Restoration

Medicine Woman reminds you
to sleep when you’re tired
to eat when you’re hungry
to drink when you’re thirsty20130820-150854.jpg
and to dance
just because.

Medicine Woman
let her bind up your wounds
apply balm to your soul
and hold you
against her shoulder
when you need to cry.

Medicine Woman
Earth healer
she’s ready to embrace you.

(7/5/2013)

20130820-150849.jpg

Memorial prayer flag

I wrote this poem last month as another character/archetype poem that came to mind after my original outraged ancestral mother poem and prayer. (Both of which were recently published in the current edition of The Tor Stone). Prophet Woman and Shakti Woman also showed up, as did Medicine Woman. I’ve still got Yoga Woman out there too and I thought there weren’t any more, until I had a Buzzard Woman encounter earlier in the month.

Last night I went to a local ceremony for the Day of Hope and Healing, which is a national memorial day for families who have experienced miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant loss. The photos in this post are from the event. And, today then felt like the perfect time to share my Medicine Woman poem. I’m also having a giveaway on my other blog for this pendant that I made over the weekend:

20130820-150921.jpgI also made some new sculptures and necklaces and updated my etsy shop!

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Categories: art, friends, poems, spirituality, theapoetics, womanspirit, women, woodspriestess | 3 Comments

Woodspriestess: Sweet Breeze

Sweet breeze August 2013 008
kissing my neck
like a prayer.

Lift this anger
rising in my head
where it has ignited
in righteous indignation.

Blow it away
and sweep up my spine
with the breath of compassion.

Solid rock
draw this tension
from my shoulders
so that it may seep away
leaving me flexible
and free.

Let it all drain away…
frustrations
ruminations
recriminations
interpretations
filtering through bedrock

Leaving behind August 2013 006
a chalice of being
receptive
open
welcoming
embracing
hopeful
able to fill
and be filled
able to share
and be lit from within.

Sweet breeze
smooth the wrinkles
from my brow
and from my thoughts.

Categories: blessings, nature, poems, prayers, theapoetics | Leave a comment

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