It’s On…

it’s on the naked branches
stripped bare by winter lashings
frozen crushings and dim light
dark night and the howls and owls
and the lonesome silent music
of lost longings and long waiting…
it’s on the roof built solid
so snug against the cold
and cupping all the golden warmth
that glows inside the heart
and sings inside the soul
of Spring returning fast…
it’s on my face that Mama splashes
all Her Love, Her Grace and Peace
She beautifies my ashes
She oils my grieving heart
She clothes me in Her Raiment
and purifies my spirit

and I sing once again
reborn and free again.


A Necessary Death

The poem I just posted is inspired by a fantastic book I am reading called “Women Who Run With The Wolves” by Clarissa Pinkola Estés.  It is truly a word from Mama for me right now.

As I was reading her take on the Inuit myth of “Skeleton Woman”, it hit me like a ton of bricks…I have been keeping certain relationships alive with heart-blood and it has changed those relationships into parasites…instead I should be feeding them with the tears of true grieving that accompanies a proper death and thus cleanse the heart and free the soul, diminished but restored and purified.

It is clear that these were flawed, defective and tragic relationships.  Blame has been laid…and I have none to lay, so therefore I can easily receive all blame for all factors and choices…because then I can get it into one place and just let it die.  Skeleton Woman is that force which brings the necessary death of something so that new life can come forth.  Jesus Himself said that unless we lose our life we cannot save it, unless a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die it cannot bring forth any fruit but will be alone.

They are dead, and I am not cutting my heart any more…there is no expiation able, or even needed…there is no act that I could perform that would result in restoring what was to what it never was.

The only way forward is to let them die.

Diminished and free…and knowing there is another chapter in this story which can now commence.tumblr_nv4kuyubnO1s5neh1o1_1280

Skeleton Woman Come

skeleton woman, you have come
surfaced with hue and cry and thrum
and waters heaving, rising scum
and dead bones clicking and clacking
clikkity-knuckles wrapping and long
dragging in waters where your white hair
stays wet, stays living and ready to tenderly
wrap what it is you have come near to usher
into the womb-waiting death.i have hooked you, and you me,
and i have done with running away.
here…my tears for your bony tongue
drink and be filled, i ask only one thing:

that you be tender, be gentle
take them now, see the rot?
the decay, the deformities, have pity
in your mercies bury them slow
and let your waters feed them
to the seaweed and the fishes

and if you deem it good
and resurrection come to them
may it be ever in the rising of the sun
across the frozen waves
within the shell-pink dawn