Poetry, Sister Lilithsdottir

A Crone for All Seasons

In the springtime of her heart, the Crone smiles remembering her childhood and maidenly ways

She gazes with serene joy on the babes (both human and animal)

the buds of tree and flower

and the coltish grace of maidens–those just past their first bleeding time

and those ripening to womonhood

 

She is patient and kind with the young ones for she holds in her bones

the memories of gamboling through grasses and wild flowers,

of skinned knees and passionate promises,

of wondrous discoveries of ants and stars,

butterflies, waterfalls, buffaloes, and

her own reflection in the mirror

 

In the heat of summer, the Crone recalls the days of magic and mystery

as her body ripened with child

She sees the young mothers

exhausted and yet satisfied

with babe at breast or knee

and she smiles

 

The Crone knows the work of generativity

of production both corporeal and conceptual

She knows the sacrifice each womon makes

to ensure her progeny are let out into the world with the best of intentions

backed by dedication to the work

 

As the days turn cooler in Autumn, the Crone becomes wistful

She recalls the days in her past when she began to slow down,

to turn inward, to discover new depths of wisdom within her heart.

 

She smiles again as she recalls when she began to be looked to for advice and counsel

when she noticed the lines on her face

the strands of grey in her hair

her lack of desire to give a damn about others’ opinions

She holds the space for those who are coming into their own wisdom and power.

 

And, in the darkness of winter, the Crone knows that even though she is 

slow in some ways, she has an ease and facility with her soul magic 

that can only come to those who have learned

to sit in contemplative reflection 

to ask the hard questions

and find strength in pain and adversity

 

As she warms her bones by the fire

the Crone welcomes the ghosts of her ancestors

feels the veil thin

and knows that in time she will return to the cauldron of the Great Goddess from whence she came

And she smiles

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