The Crone by Shadowolf
Wild Woman
began her life
with a small medicine bundle,
containing only
a feather and a pebble,
to ground her
somewhere between
the earth and sky.
As she lived her life,
this bundle grew heavy,
containing bits of
all of
the people
and the places
and the creatures
she had loved.
By now,
it is
stuffed to bursting
with Memory,
hard-won
Wisdom
and Angst,
(angst for the
remembered moments,
amidst all the shining ones,
that mortify.)
Sometimes
she groans aloud
at those reflected
instances,
when she was
so much less
than what she
should have been.
Yet this is her bundle
to carry -
no way, now,
to toss
those pieces
out.
She must carry it
with her
into the next world,
spend one more
painful
lifetime
burning off
her karmic debt
(as if this lifetime's
(as if this lifetime's
burning
wasnt enough!)
She must live
enough times over
to reduce the debt
to that original feather
and pebble,
with which she
started out.
