A poem in acknowledgement of healing the wounds of HerStory. These words came through thick and fast last night. Some of them come from my story, some are gathered from the collective feminine experience. I wrote them down as they came through and will record this Poem as a Spoken Word and share at a later date.
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I bled on the Earth
Feet firmly planted
Into the depth of my womb I cried
Salty despair I wept into the wind
With ancestral ties
I died
Unto myself again and again and again
I let go
resurrecting the story with each quiver from my lips softly parted
I moaned with a gentle fierceness that only a Priestess remembers.
My blood pooled on the rocks as an offering
My DNA intoning the granite
Grounding the sacred YONIverse between my thighs
Dripping sacred ambrosia
Breathing with fertility
Connected with the Natural cycles… in Natural Lore
I let go
I cut my ties…cut those chords…
Called it all in with a powerful intent
Piercing the dreaming of generations.
NOT MY STORY
In that moment I knew that the union was no longer to be
The mask fell, the veil dropped, Illusions dissolved
and I saw clearly…
Out of the fog…
It is done!
I shook my head in disgrace
For I had let myself go…
I shed tears and I shed skins
I raged and roared into the abyss of an internal battle that silenced my screams with a cacophony of echo’s
Of ghosts that walked before me
And I walked those fires and burnt like my ancestors did
The wild woman who spat in the face of your violence
And cussed at the sound of your empty song
Weaving its web of deception
My hands threw seeds at your feet, as you dragged my name through the mud
My anger bubbled and boiled as the internal waters became a liquid inferno
Spilling the remnants of the submerged
I purged
My mind no longer consumed
FUCK YOU!
I LET GO…
