Sisters, we weep with grief
Shout with anger
Tremble in fear
Stand tall in joy.
We grow strong as the biggest tree
Deep as the deepest well
Wise as the elders.
We echo and call
and call
and call.
We dream our circle to life.
Within, we cradle the newest
being – the babe we feed
with the nectar
of the goddesses and gods
the whatever is.
All of that.
We are spread about with sunshine
We are covered in rain
We soar with the wind
push up the green shoots.
Our legs are roots
Our bodies living wood
Our arms move in worship
We dance between the stars.
I’ve heard we are made of stars.
We are old as the oldest
We are the blackest night
And the newest light.
Formed from the dust of the galaxies
Conjured from lust and need
the moans of pleasure
slick seed
and yes.
We birth the mountains from our wombs,
Bring forth the seas.
From between our thighs,
the scent of ancient sands.
The old queens whose hands
hold the scepters
bestow the mysteries.
All that is.
All that is.
Monday, October 25, 2010
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3 comments:
This is so beautiful Megan...thank you for writing it, sharing it....such beautiful images for my spirit...oxox
How utterly breathtaking!
A'HO!
The Applachian Waltz just came on the radio. Perfect though a bit too mediatitve for your poem's energy. Fine stuff. Happy Autumn! And Happy Samhain.
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