(Truth:
Wild Woman knows
what she knows.)
It is time, Wild Woman,
to bring forth all your gifts,
for the seasons now are quickening,
and swift.
Sing out your songs,
sing loud and strong and clear.
Write all your poems,
to say that you were here.
A Wild Woman creates her own way.
She runs with her inner wolves,
and she has a lot to say.
She speaks with an authentic voice,
avoiding angst or wrath.
She follows her intuition,
along the unmarked path.
(Truth:
Wild Woman knows what she knows,
and she'll share her wisdom well
before she goes.)
She steps into new territory - no fear.
She follows her heart, in trust,
honest and sweet and clear.
Her spirit has been
forever on the rise,
the long journey having made her
compassionate and wise.
She no longer harbors life,
brings new visions forth instead,
that she sees with eyes located
somewhere else besides her head.
She feverishly transcribes dictated words.
Her songs she then gives freely
to all the singing birds.
to bring forth all your gifts,
for the seasons now are quickening,
and swift.
Sing out your songs,
sing loud and strong and clear.
Write all your poems,
to say that you were here.
A Wild Woman creates her own way.
She runs with her inner wolves,
and she has a lot to say.
She speaks with an authentic voice,
avoiding angst or wrath.
She follows her intuition,
along the unmarked path.
(Truth:
Wild Woman knows what she knows,
and she'll share her wisdom well
before she goes.)
She steps into new territory - no fear.
She follows her heart, in trust,
honest and sweet and clear.
Her spirit has been
forever on the rise,
the long journey having made her
compassionate and wise.
She no longer harbors life,
brings new visions forth instead,
that she sees with eyes located
somewhere else besides her head.
She feverishly transcribes dictated words.
Her songs she then gives freely
to all the singing birds.
Follow these pawprints into the forest,
Sister mine.
They will lead you to a home
Grandfather Cedar makes so fine.
An owl with piercing yellow eyes,
a cat with Cheshire grin,
will be on the doorstep watching,
waiting to let you in.
There is a conjuring old woman
living there,
her spirit fixed between
the sky and earth.
She has lived apart from others
since her birth,
doesn't care at all what people think.
Listen well to every incantation,
for all of them
are linked.
Wild Woman has fallen bewitched
by the beauty of the earth.
Before the fire,
she is singing over the bones.
When she finishes her song,
(it won't take very long),
she will welcome you
to the Sisterhood of Crones.
from 2013, Just Because. Smiles. To be shared with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United on Sunday.
How lucky you are to feel the call so strongly and to know your task is to call others. One suggested change for line 8: You ARE here!
ReplyDeleteA good suggestion, Susan...I use the past tense because as I write my poems, I am thinking of how my family might read them after I am gone and begin to understand who I am, or was. I am leaving poems like clues: to find me, come this way. Smiles.
DeleteYou always do bring forth your gifts through wisdom of word and love of life and land. I love this Sherry!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Sherryll I love that wild woman nothing better than following your intuition,be authentic and create
ReplyDeleteshe sees with eyes located
ReplyDeletesomewhere else besides her head
YESS. Gonna channel the wild woman within me!
I like the idea of sharing one's wisdom. You have a lot of it, and it is good that you write your wisdom poetically. Continue to follow your heart - with your pen! And enjoy those visions.
ReplyDeleteWe need more wild women.
ReplyDeleteThe repetition is effective, sherry, like a heartbeat through the poem. My favourite lines:
ReplyDelete‘A Wild Woman creates her own way.
She runs with her inner wolves,
and she has a lot to say’.
"She speaks with an authentic voice,
ReplyDeleteavoiding angst or wrath." Pure wisdom this is. There's so much peace, contentment, grit and love in this poem.
Seeing I am male, skinny and show all my bones isn't there a brotherhood of bones I could join? When I read your work I often wish there was a huge band of supporters that could support our natural living world in their difficulties.
ReplyDeleteThe repetition works so elegantly throughout the whole poem, Sherry!💞 It feels like a heartbeat pounding rhythmically. Beautiful!💞
ReplyDeleteThis stirs the wild woman who lives inside my soul. Let's run into the woods and then, let's listen.
ReplyDeleteSo much joy in this poem! I embrace it, all of it. How blessed I am to read your words this morning!
ReplyDeleteMy heart hears the call and my feet follow the prints.
ReplyDeleteOh, what a wonderful poem Sherry! Beautiful and uplifting.
ReplyDeleteShe no longer harbors life,
ReplyDeletebrings new visions forth instead,
that she sees with eyes located
somewhere else besides her head.
She feverishly transcribes dictated words.
Her songs she then gives freely
to all the singing birds.
--- oh wow- what a poem - and what an incredibly potent verse - and these lines:There is a conjuring old woman
living there,
her spirit fixed between
the sky and earth.
-- delicious
and amazing closing -
superbly incredible poem - speaks with the authentication of time, with all the battles won and lost, the scars and an inner peace that comes from learning and acceptance -
a fine fine way to consider a life well and truly lived ....
not to be forgotten, but passed along - imprinted in hearts, spirits and minds ...
Thank you, my friend, for such a lovely comment!
DeleteI love the sharing, and how wisdom needs to be passed down to the one who comes after us... I feel the same with my librarian actually... I need to give a bit more of that to his voice
ReplyDeleteYes, would love to hear some more from him......
Delete"She steps into new territory - no fear.
ReplyDeleteShe follows her heart, in trust,"
Such a beautiful poem , such a beautiful soul
Happy Sunday
Much💖💖💖love
Love this! I want to throw open the back door and chant it into the neighborhood. A poem to get the blood moving.
ReplyDeleteThat is quite the "Invitation".
ReplyDeleteGreat adventure.
ZQ
Yes, my friend you are wise as the sturdy pines you walk amidst. I would gladly walk with you a while and listen to your stories.
ReplyDeleteThis is awesome! I agree, poems are like leaving behind clues to who we are/were. I occasionally sketch while I am trying to work out a poem (not that I am very good at it) and, I find, the sketches are like clues to the poem. This past week, I decided to gather up the sketches (which were all over the place) and put them in a scrapbook. When I finished and looked back at the pages, I couldn't help thinking that the scrapbook was full of clues about me. More so, I think, than a lot of my poetry. Not sure if I'm keen on leaving that much transparency behind ~ ha ~
ReplyDeleteWhat you've written here, really hits the mark beautifully … and with wisdom.
This would be perfect read at a croning ceremony. I was thinking of you and Mary Oliver as I read. Shapeshifting.
ReplyDeleteThere is an overriding Magnificat to your Muse. The natural worlds runs cold in your bones and hot on your heels -
ReplyDeleteI like the clues idea. I suppose as we write we think of those who might read the words we leave in our wake - it has only struck me recently
Love the rhymes, rhythm and the intention of the poem. It is evocative and raw like nature itself. The addition of paws in the poem is innovative - where you have said - 'follow these paw prints...'
ReplyDeleteThese lines are full of foresight - 'She no longer harbors life,
brings new visions forth instead,
that she sees with eyes located
somewhere else besides her head'
Your poems are straightforward and that is what I really like about your creation.
Lovely writing, old friend. :-)
ReplyDeleteA toast to all the wild women.
ReplyDelete