Gratitude for Time and Light

The Word

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between “green thread”
and “broccoli,” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”

Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,

but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.

~Tony Hoagland
in Sweet Ruin, 1992
☀️

Image: Pacific Sun
by Nancy Lankston

She Has Always Been With Us

Mother Goddess, 27,000 BCE

“Originally the Goddess ruled, or co-created, the magical life cycle forces of sexuality, birth, life and death. With the coming of patriarchal religions, the power of life and death became prerogatives of the male God, while sexuality and magic were split off from procreation and motherhood.”
-Barbara Koltuv, The Book of Lilith

——-
Image: the Laussel Relief 27,000 BCE. Found in southern France. It depicts the connection between a woman’s body and the mystery of the cosmos; one hand holds a crescent moon and the other points to her pelvis. Archeologists debate about what the 13 lines on the crescent moon signify. One possibility: 29,000 years ago, humans already knew that there are 13 moon cycles in a year.

🌙 ❤️

#SacredFem
#Herstory

Vocabulary for Joy

Women hold a vocabulary
For joy in their mouths like
A field of lavender and bee bellies
Buzzing a hum back into the earth. 

~Liza Wolff-Francis

🐝

Look for Liza’s book,
Language of Crossing on Amazon

Image: Lavender Bee
Creative Commons

Come My Child

”And the Great Mother said:

Come my child and give me all that you are.

I am not afraid of your strength and darkness, of your fear and pain.

Give me your tears. They will be my rushing rivers and roaring oceans.

Give me your rage. It will erupt into my molten volcanoes and rolling thunder.

Give me your tired spirit. I will lay it to rest in my soft meadows.

Give me your hopes and dreams. I will plant a field of sunflowers and arch rainbows in the sky.

You are not too much for me. My arms and heart welcome your true fullness.

There is room in my world for all of you, all that you are.

I will cradle you in the boughs of my ancient redwoods and the valleys of my gentle rolling hills.

My soft winds will sing you lullabies and soothe your burdened heart.

Release your deep pain. You are not alone and you have never been alone.”

~Linda Reuther

Image: Mother Goddess
by Nancy Lankston

Seeds Are Stirring


Imbolc is upon us. Celtic stories tell us that the Cailleach—the divine hag Goddess who rules over winter and death—gathers firewood for the rest of the winter on Imbolc. If the Goddess Cailleach wishes to make the winter last a lot longer, she will make sure that the weather on Imbolc is bright and sunny, so she can gather plenty of firewood. But, if Imbolc is a day of foul weather, it means the Cailleach is asleep and winter is almost over.

The Cailleach was worshipped by the Celts as the sacred Earth Mother in her bare winter form. And she is not just a dark and evil hag who arbitrarily decides how long winter will be. The Cailleach is also the Bone Mother who collects the bones of the animals that die in the winter. The Bone Mother is said to sing or pray or sleep over the bones all winter long. She does this out of love, so that the animals will cross over and can return as new life in the spring.

There is a magic to Imbolc and the early days of February. It is there, running just beneath the surface. Can you feel it? Mama Earth holds the seeds of spring safe for us all winter. As the cold wind blows and the snow piles up, she holds them safe in her soil.

#Imbolc
#Bone Collector
#Hag Goddess

Dreaming Back My Sisters


“I am dreaming back my sisters

Whisper-worn footfalls on the Temple steps

Skywalkers

Storm dwellers

Heavy-breasted cauldron keepers

Songweavers

Snake sisters

Darkmoon dancers

Labyrinth builders

Star bridgers

Fiery-eyed dragon-ryders

Wind seekers

Shape shifters

Corn daughters

Wolf women

Earth stewards

Gentle-handed womb sounders

Dream spinners

Flame keepers

Moon birthers

Come home sisters, come home”

~Marie Elena Gaspari