poem – Page 6 – Wild Feminine Path

October 12, 2016April 12, 2022

I Was TOUCHED

This is what came bubbling up and out of me this morning…

I was TOUCHED
Touched by a man who thought
MY body was his, all his
To do as he pleased.

I was TOUCHED
And it hurt so much I couldn’t breathe.
I took the dirt and the pain of it
and I buried it deep.

I was TOUCHED
And I buried it all deep inside me
Buried it deep where no one would see
And covered it with shame.

I was TOUCHED.

☾☽

Dedicated to all the women and girls out there who have been touched in ways that hurt

AND the good men who want to understand.

March 16, 2016April 12, 2022

Today in the car, this song came on and I got the chills – literally! Apparently, it was precisely what I needed to hear. Which song? It was Love’s Divine by Seal, who is one of my favorite mystic songwriters:

Then the rainstorm came, over me
And I felt my spirit break
I had lost all of my, belief you see
And realized my mistake
But time threw a prayer, to me
And all around me became still

I need love, love’s divine
Please forgive me now I see that I’ve been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Through the rainstorm came sanctuary
And I felt my spirit fly
I had found all of my reality
I realize what it takes

‘Cause I need love, love’s divine
Please forgive me now I see that I’ve been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don’t bend (don’t bend), don’t break (don’t break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won’t forsake
‘Cause love can help me know my name

Well I try to say there’s nothing wrong
But inside I felt me lying all along
But the message here was plain to see
Believe me

‘Cause I need love, love’s divine
Please forgive me now I see that I’ve been blind
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name

Oh I, don’t bend (don’t bend), don’t break (don’t break)
Show me how to live and promise me you won’t forsake
‘Cause love can help me know my name

Love can help me know my name.

by Seal

December 22, 2015April 12, 2022

The Mending

Trees in Fall — Autumn Cherry by Nancy L

The Mending

There comes a time

when the mending is out of our hands.

It falls beyond the reach

of needle and thread,

of determined fixing and worn self help patches,

all manner of effort falls short.

When the unraveling comes

do not be afraid;

the Unmaker stands before

a greater loom where

chyrsalises are shed,

tight knots in life unspooled to the floor

the splendor of leaves fall from the trees

returning to the humility of ground

a glint of ebony on the raven’s wing,

as the black thread is shuttled,

back and forth, our questions,

back and forth, crashing wave to shore

rocked by the drum of the heartbeat

lungs empty and fill again,

until the essential nature

of a larger design speaks

quieting us with

the eloquence of stillness.

Simple as a breath,

into the great unwinding we go

we are rendered out of our hunting grounds,

and delivered into something that opens our eyes;

we become kin to the seasons and

kneel before the wise counsel of winter

bare and humbled

reaching toward our inner sky.

by Margo Stebbing

November 18, 2015April 12, 2022

Patience

The Patience of Ordinary Things

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?