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it was before the en. when circular doorways and soft-edged answers grooved the way

it was the time of howling blood and baby bile without shame

a time before pipes

and indoor plumbing

when the loss of a golden ring was mourned and memory buried

not caught in the drain trap

wrenched open with sweat stained tool

and rescued to Behold…

those had not been invented yet

before high rises and forklifts

it was a time to praise the moon

to plant before sunrise

in the days when a stone hovel was enough

and the rain bled through

when rituals and ceremony were the staple

a circular life clean of edges

with eyes that could see into the third dimension

with hearts that beat with mother earth

and there was death and the unexplained

there was drought and suffering

laughter and feast, cold and cuddling

it was simple and fatal, this cycle of life

a circular accepting.

then the time of en, came the linear

the angular

the comfort of straight walls and roofs that didn’t leak

the striped sun divided the land called his

the we became wom of en: the wombs of him

the chattel who were owned

called wom-en

the sunset of the goddess, who sank into a spiral

for millennia

now weaves her way into many hearts

pregnant until the planting is ripe

when the meadow is soft and round

and we can welcome back the birth of the bud

the Divine Feminine

to soften the angles, breathe bucolic breath into the corners

release the linear and the left brain from their burrows

blossom the unseen sweetness

of the meadow

applaud pointless play and sing the exploring stream

to find ourselves back in the heart

of the we and the en

brought to Mother together the curve and the line

the rise

of Women.

Art by permission of Holly Sierra. See more of Holly's colorful and divinely inspired art at http://www.hollysierra.com/

Art by permission of Holly Sierra. See more of Holly’s colorful and divinely inspired art at http://www.hollysierra.com/

 

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Divine Mother

on these covered streets

may i hear your footsteps leading me

despite the electric voices

may i listen for your soft tone 

with my heart and not my head

i pray i will heed your advice

and when i don’t

i pray i will still receive it.

Divine Mother

Sister

Goddess

i am more than your daughter

in a busy world

in spirit, i am Mother too

in heart, your Sister Kin

at my deepest self, I am Goddess to you

may i remember this and quell the frenetic
by being open to you like never before
in spite of this howling world

may my quickening enliven your spirit

make material your existence, to bring peace

to the heart of all things

Oh Mother

in this busy world

your Sacred touch on my forehead

is my fervent prayer

 Photo courtesy of Robin Apple. See more of her work at the RWC Main Gallery or visit her site at:  500px.com/robinapplepeopleshots


Photo courtesy of Robin Apple. See more of her work at the RWC Main Gallery or visit her site at: 500px.com/robinapplepeopleshots

we walk hand in hand toward the precipice
the big fall is coming

i can feel it in your slight distance
the gap gets just a little wider every day
your warm love does not burn me as bright
you pay less attention to me and pull away
into some place i am not invited

the pit i will fall into is like a grave
you do this every year
somehow i know if i sit it out, you will come back to me
maybe you just need time alone, time away
from me

i want you too much, you think me selfish
that i’ve had enough, too much of you
your steps away from me grow farther and will soon
leave me in the shadows with only your halo to flicker memories
of our hot nights together
plump blackberry days and watermelon nights
so hot to burn my skin

your kisses fade only by drops each day, but i can feel it already
i beg you, don’t retreat, don’t shut me out
but i know what is coming
we have done this dance before and before
it is less and soon i will have only grey where there was sun and blue

i will drop into persephone’s fall
cover my vacant bones that housed your sunshine
make a cup of tea
and wait the long winter
for your return

Dolly Rapn

Art courtesy of Dolly Rappaport

this is an ekphrastic poem written for Sarah Curtiss’ art piece below by the same title

this is the way life is

with its boxes and swirls

appearing as snares, suction cups and mazes

they are everywhere

you step into them everyday

get boxed in

circle around and around

then trip into a dead end

before you see clearly, after so many lifetimes

that the boxes are windows

the swirls are clouds to carry you away

the rubik’s cubes are your own lethal thoughts

so i lie down to not think

i am awake but i do not participate

i recline quietly as

ancient labyrinths order my hair

secret mazes mark my body

sacred swirls coil my mind

cyclones siphon my drops

i shut my drain pipes

to all that is going on

like music in the background

and fall into myself

into my infinity

spiral like a snake where gaia meets the cosmos

let the energy flow

fly above where the patterns take helix shape

until i am free of the circling thoughts

material traps

and can wrap my being around

the divine pattern

of all there is

Meditation by Sarah Curtiss see more of her art at graceartgroup.com

Meditation by Sarah Curtiss
see more of her art at graceartgroup.com

this is exactly
what i should be doing

splayed out on the grass soaking in the green
my toxic week leaks into mother earth
let the bitters dissolve
cajole with the underworld
and relieve the disturbances up here

mother earth sucks me hard against her bumpy surface
into her cosmic tendrils
like a sponge in a centrifuge
compost my sickness, Great Mother Gaia

pull this turmoil out of my cells and into your sacred vastness
hold me tight i surrender
i can feel your thirsty roots
wrap their lovely green arms around me

i am soaking up your green and your brown
your crystalline vibration
your wondrous gaia-ness

i surrender to you, Great Mother
my eyes drink in the green against blue
my skin against your skin

this is exactly
what i should be doing

Courtesy of Carmen Leon

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