Tuesday, September 12, 2017

WOMYN OF THE MOON



We womyn of the moon,
following in the footsteps of 
the shamanic dreamers of the past,
hearts attuned to the sound of the drum
and the voice of the Watcher within,
know that, in every sister's herstory,
is an old wise woman with wrinkled cheeks,
a cackling laugh,
and earth-based knowledge 
of how to Be,
how to be She.

In this grey-cloaked winter of the dream-time,
we must remember to water 
our parched womanly roots,
hold fast to the place in the earth that is ours,
as the winds whip our branches,
and the icy cold seeps at the edges of our being.
There be danger in this domain,
if we try to stay.

As the days slowly lengthen,
we reverberate with the rhythm of the tides,
those wild winter waves which knock our hearts 
off the shelf of safekeeping,
into the depths, where we rediscover
what we had forgotten
that we already know.

There will come a time, just before spring,
when a woman has to step from 
the shore of the familiar,
into the ocean of womynkind,
open our eyes in the space
between the old world and the new,
the darkness and the light.
There be no old maps to guide you.
You must follow in trust,
with a wild, instinctual, wolfish Knowing,
from which you will emerge,
keen of eye, imbued with wisdom,
to mother the whole world.


A poem from 2014, shared with The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads.


15 comments:

  1. This poem which I vaguely remember has a beautiful old world feel about it Sherry with nature still firmly in control...how I wish it was so now.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I see you've got the womyn with "y" thing going on. Next you'll be wearing an ankh. Zac says he likes everything you do cos you are his Auntie Sherry and he loves you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. earth-based knowledge
    of how to Be,
    how to be She.... much to learn from the earth and the ancients.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This is so beautiful!๐Ÿ’˜ Especially love; "In this grey-cloaked winter of the dream-time, we must remember to water our parched womanly roots, hold fast to the place in the earth that is ours, as the winds whip our branches, and the icy cold seeps at the edges of our being."๐Ÿ’˜

    ReplyDelete
  5. I know that time, Sherry. One of my favs.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thanks for this insightful write to woman kind and her instincts
    Happy you dropped by my blog today Sherry

    Much ๐Ÿ˜ love

    ReplyDelete
  7. A classic, Sherry! We need the feminine influence now more than ever with men comparing the sizes of their guns.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I wonder if there is moon for old men as well? Love that call ...

    ReplyDelete
  9. Oh, how I love this "wolfish Knowing." I do believe these Womyn might like hanging out with my dethroned princesses. ;)

    ReplyDelete
  10. I agree with De. A good crowd to run and howl with!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Nicely painted scene. The first three stanzas are winds of preparation for the coming of the forth.

    ReplyDelete
  12. "we must remember to water
    our parched womanly roots,"
    ... I appreciate your metaphors throughout the entire poem - so earthy and inspiring.

    ReplyDelete
  13. In spring (and always), I shall answer the call... and dance!

    ReplyDelete
  14. I adore this womyn, these wimmin, so much! Though reading this as the days get shorter contributes to melancholy :)

    ReplyDelete

Thank you so much for visiting. I appreciate it and will return your visit soon.