Song of Star Woman

8 09 2006

“It was in the winters

Before The People

Came into being

That Star Woman Came.

She saw Mother Earth

And thought her lonely.

All praise Star Woman.

Star Woman spoke to

The Great Sprit of this. 

He agreed,

Mother Earth

Needed children to love.

Together Great Spirit

And Star Woman

Fashioned The People.

Brother to the wild things.

From the dust of the Stars

From the Oceans made them.

Gave them life with

A warm breath from

White Tatanka’s mouth.

Awaken, Great Spirit’s children.

Blessed them with

Plenty, and faith.

Set them in a good land.

Made us caretakers

Of our Mother Earth.

Walk softly on our Mother.

Great Spirit spoke to them,

‘Care well for your Mother,

Love her, keep her happy.’

I will watch over you,

And shine upon you.

Great Sprit’s first promise.

In times of great trouble,

I will return to you,

And never abandon you.

You are my children,

Born of the dust of the stars

And the tears of Mother Earth.

Heed Great Spirit’s words.”

                         GwenGuin

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Ancient Style – (an attempt)

22 08 2006

This is written in a medieval split form, meant to be read out loud. The break in the middle of the lines is an exagerated pause (1,2,3) to allow those with limited language skills to keep pace with the ballad. The center column is supposed to be centered and uniform, but … so I have substituted “======”
…………………………………………………………………………………………..

WISE but ONE

The crone was not evil ====== Nor privy to sin of any kind,
And thus not thought human ====== But feared for no reason save one;
A knowing that she heard ======= And in doing was alone and shunned.

She perceived what was not ====== At least by claim of toil and folly.
She danced when other’s wept ====== And often cried when others did laugh;
But all knew she was fey ====== And left her to weave her shadow cloak.

Yet many came to chide her ====== Pester anew the differences and all
For no other reason, Given .====== if any cared to ask or ponder,
“Look there now for yourself. ====== See one who ne’er should’ve been born.”

‘cept there was tale and myth ====== That she had never known a mother’s soul
Nor gifted father seed, ====== But just was and nothing more be said,
Save that she was now ====== And would always be found sitting there.

She ne’er gave an answer ====== Nor querried after folks and weather,
Nor swapped old recipes, ====== Or gossiped about the preacher’s wife,
Nor walked far the woods,====== Or even hid from the rain or sun.

So why would anyone care ====== To scale up the slope and jump the thorns
To a dark musty cave ====== While lightning flashes without a cloud,
To find a withered crone, ====== Toothless — one eye lost to tangled hair?
Because you can, that’s why, ====== And answer a calling eternal;
For she knows the answer ====== And you are jealous through and beyond,
And hope to hear her sing .====== And smile with the golden eyes of God.





The Gathering of the Others

19 08 2006

Something happened to this little piece of prose betwixt Bath House Tales and here…

It became a poem!!  Go figure…

This is dedicated with love to all who yearn for a babe, and are blessed not:

We are gathered in our Place,

that sad and grey-steeped

Place in our Hearts.

Here,

where longing is shrivelled,

and become husklike,

hollow as a spider’s prey.

Voices with no body

echo here,

they call,

from dreams that

fade the colour

of our realities.

Mom?”

In this place,

we are drawn

in spare,

jagged shades

of charcoal,

ever wanting fullness.

Our voices hushed,

as the cry of

our spirits.

Eyes are lowered,

in respect of the

shared,

hungry light

we would see in

one another.

“Mamma?”

This is where

we seek comfort,

while mourning

our lost hopes.

This is the place

where we can cry

 to the Heavens,

“Why??”.

Together

with the Others,

whom we call

‘Our Sisters’,

we do not need

to dissemble

or perform.

“Mommy?”

This is the Place,

gifted to us by 

All-Mother,

a place

no Mother knows of,

but for those

who lost their child.

Here we are

comforted,

by hearts

that understand,

and grieve with us.

“Kiss an’ better?”

We are the Aunts,

the Step-Mothers,

the Woman who

never sought a mate.

We have gone

from Maiden to

Venerable Crone,

with no sojurn

as Mother.

All of us feel it, 

the ‘lack’,

the feeling

of not being

‘good enough’,

always wondering,

“Why not me?”.

 “Mamma!!

Here,

 we join hands

with our Sisters,

and let down the

burden of awareness

for a time,

and rest.

“Night Mum.

I love you.”








Awaken to the Divine Feminine

7 08 2006

Baba has asked me to enter the novitiate of the Order of the High Priestess. My training will be long and difficult, requiring deep committment in the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment. To begin she has asked me to create an altar for each room in the house. This is the collage I have placed on the altar in the hallway, which can be seen as soon as you step over the threshold.