What does it mean to come back into our power as female creators?
And as protectors of the wild?
Wild Woman Embers
Grief Work
If you come as softly
As wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees.
If you come as lightly
As threading dew
I will take you gladly
Nor ask more of you.
You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
Only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.
And if you come I will be silent
Nor speak harsh words to you.
I will not ask you why, now.
Or how, or what you do.
We shall sit here, softly
Beneath two different years
And the rich earth between us
Shall drink our tears.
~Audre Lorde
Moon Woman
a woman can’t survive
by her own breath
alone
she must know
the voices of mountains
she must recognize
the foreverness of blue sky
she must flow
with the elusive
bodies
of night winds
who will take her
into herself
look at me
i am not a separate woman
i am a continuance
of blue sky
i am the throat
of the mountains
a night wind
who burns
with every breath
she takes
~Joy Harjo
What Moon Drove Me to This?
🌙
Image: Moon Meets Morning Star
Kwon, O Chul
The Blanket Around Her
maybe it is her birth
which she holds close to herself
or her death
which is just as inseparable
and the white wind
that encircles her is a part
just as the blue sky
hanging in turquoise from her neck
oh woman
remember who you are
woman
it is the whole earth
~ Joy Harjo
🌎
Photo by Ruthie Martin
on Unsplash
She is the Source
She is intuition,
she is far-seer,
she is deep listener,
she is loyal heart.
She encourages humans to remain multilingual;
fluent in the languages of dreams, passion, and poetry.
She whispers from night dreams,
she leaves behind on the terrain of a woman’s soul
a coarse hair and muddy footprints.
These fill women with longing to find her, free her, and love her.
She is ideas, feelings, urges, and memory.
She has been lost and half-forgotten for a long, long time.
She is the source,
the light,
the night,
the dark,
and daybreak.
~Clarissa Pinkola Estes
🌙☀️
Wild Embers
We are the blood
of the witches
you thought were dead.
We carry witchcraft in our bones
whilst magic still sings
inside our heads.
When the witch hunters
imprisoned our ancestors
when they tried to burn the magic away.
Someone should have
warned them
that magic cannot be tamed.
Because you cannot burn away
what has always
been aflame.
~Nikita Gill, “Wild Embers”