Tag: poem

Posted on

Let the World Hear You

“Be loud, my sweet girl.
Make some noise if you want.
Let the world hear your voice—strong, clear, and full of all the things that make you you.
You don’t need permission to take up space.

Care deeply, my darling.
Put your whole self into what you love.
Let your heart stretch wide, even if the world doesn’t always understand.
The depth of your kindness, your passion, your love—it is your gift.

Be brave, young one.
Bravery doesn’t mean you won’t feel fear.
It means you step forward anyway, even with shaky hands and unsure steps.
Your try is always a great feat.

You are beautiful.
You are gentle.
You are kind and sweet.
You are bold.
You are creative.
You are perfectly, wonderfully, uniquely you.

You are so many things—and so much more.
Never let anyone define you but you.

Because right now, in this very moment, you are exactly who you are meant to be.
And that is enough. Always.”

from Be Brave Mom

Art: Leap of Faith
by Lucy Campbell

Posted on

The World Stops

god is a mother
and with that
sentence
the world stops
the world always stops
when woman and
divine
commingle
as if the
feminine
dilutes the
miraculous
when in reality
it embodies it
when jesus turns water
to wine
they clap
but when women turn breasts
to milk
they cringe
a broken man’s body
is celebrated each sunday
while a broken woman’s body
is just hidden away
and it’s no wonder
that mother is a word
used by men
to demonize those
who don’t claim the name
and weaponized to shame
those who step out of line
because
their ideal
woman
plays the role of
nurturer and silencer
in pews
built and led by them
but
when god
becomes mother
she is neither quiet
or compliant
she leads confidently
she questions authority
she commands respect
which might be the problem
for mother god
did not gather us up
carelessly
but took her time with it
she fed us milk
birthed our souls
and broke her body
and the permanence
can be uncomfortable
and to disentangle god
from motherhood
Is impossible
but
to disentangle god
from womanhood
is sinful
because seeing god as mother
is one step closer
to seeing god in me
and it’s in that
i am truly
born again

~Kaitlin Hardy Shetler

🌙

Image: A new mother nurses her baby
unknown photographer

Posted on

I Am

I am the moon goddess casting a silver net over this night

I am the brooding black raven asleep in the dark wood

I am the dreamer and the fox who guards the dreamer

I am the windswept plain where lost dreams can be found

I am the bone songs of my ancestors playing on the wind

I am the heart of the ancient sycamore crumbling into dust

I am green leaves capturing rays of sunlight as they fall

I am the lone crane, standing watch near the shore

I am the jumping salmon crane silently waits for

I am the dance of flickering flame consuming it all

I am Phoenix reborn from the ash of what came before.

~NancyL

—

Painting: Moon Woman and the Serpent:
Gifts of the Dark by NancyL

Posted on

She

She is the Life/Death/Life force, she is the incubator. 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.”

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

🌙

Image: Triple Goddess
by Amy Haderer

Posted on

Earth Mother

Willendorf Beauty by Peg Green

I am dawn’s flame
Arching through treetops

I am a whisper of wind
Playing in the weeds

I am dark loamy ground
Supporting roots and shoots

I am cool mountain waters
Tumbling toward the sea

I am holy Mother
Creating and holding all.

~Nancy L

Posted on

Let Softness Carry You

“Soak your life
with wildflowers
and rivers.

Breathe in honey
and the moon.

Bring in softness
whenever you can.

Softness can carry you
over the sharpest
of grounds.

Like wind and water”

~Victoria Erickson

🌙

Image: Her Rocks, Her Water, Her Light
by Miko, mikoarts.com

Posted on

The Wild Will Call You Back

The Wild will call you back.
Through half-remembered dreams
and sunsets painted
in burnt sienna
and vermillion flames
she will call you back home.
The coyotes will wake you
from your sleep
with their clarion call
to keep your eyes
wide open.

How long have you been sleeping?
How much have you forgotten?

The Wild will call you back.
She will hang you upside down
and shake the nonsense
from the pockets
of your mind.
She will strip your soul naked
leaving you raw and exposed
under the searing glare
of the gods.
Offer up the holiness
of your confusion
and questions.
Dress yourself
in fireflies
and attune your senses
to awe
while you learn the slow seduction
of courting your muse.

Brush the stardust from your wings
and wipe the ocean from your eyes.
Flex your claws
dig your roots deep down
into the fertile earth
and show your fangs.
Gather pollen on your legs
and speak
in venom
and honey.
Peel back your colonized tongue
and let it hiss
and purr
and growl
and scream.

Do you remember
how to stalk
as predator
and how to surrender
as prey?

The Wild will call you back.
The owls know your real name
and will call you
from the darkness of night
to dance under the moon.
Crack your heart open
with your ancestors’ bones
and dance in the ecstasy
of your love
and your grief
with flailing limbs
bloody knees
and mud-stained feet.
Braid mugwort into your hair
and dream yourself
awake.

The Wild will call you back.
She will teach you how to die
again and again
and how to die well.
There is no difference
between your funeral pyre
and your birth canal.
Do not bother
to try and stop
the bleeding.
Love with the gentleness
and ferocity
of your whole
soft
tender being.
Feed the spirits
with your beauty
and sweetness
and ask them to show you
the way home.
⠀
~Gina Puorro
www.ginapuorro.com