|many thanks to a friend who created this while her son rested in womb. this, the divine she.|
i've heard mothers say that the first time they see their baby's face is their holiest moment.
but we, those of us raised within patriarchal religion, are denied the comfort of our own beginning, like a babe snatched away at birth and our mother, exiled.
i threw my arms around Her legs
came to weeping, came to weeping
my sojourn curves into her arms, the sacred God-mother. if you asked a year ago i would have gasped at myself in dismay, but i need only to look in a mirror; i am made in her image, yes? and i am hungry and desperate and lonely for her, the ancient She. at first i was afraid. the old voices of fear, they are loud and strong. they demand that everything be laid out flat in black and white, then they trample the pearls before tearing me to pieces.
but i('m) grow(ing) strong.
i am made like her.
for so long i viewed a one-sided picture, and even that was skewed and punctured through like photographs on a cork-board. but i want the whole image, which means i need to study the unknown for a while, behold Her face like a newborn blinking at her mother for the very first time. i need to let Her hold me, nourish me, cradle me. i need to see Her and hear Her voice. i need Her to tell me about herself and Him, and myself and the earth and all the other souls. i want to see through Her eyes; i want to know and be known.
she was there all along, even in the scriptures i read again and again.
she stood before me, face to face.
i have opened my eyes, now. and even though the mirror is dim, i can see her, see the outline of her. but mostly i feel pressed close, clutched close in comfort, and cradled.
you know when you gather your child close and bury your face in her hair?
you breathe her in deep; you kiss her forehead and fingers and toes and pour all your love into every glistening fiber of her being, knowing that you would do anything for her, you would die for this darling beautiful creature you made?
and her whole being lights up at the sight of you, and only you can still her cries, soothe her spirit, calm her fears? only you can kiss her knees and make the pain go away?
and she calls to you first in the night, and whispers stories and dreams and cuddles herself right on up to your heart?
yeah, i think it's like that.
this is part of my journey that perhaps not many will understand. i don't wish to defend anything or to convince anyone to see things as i do. please, each one, seek the creator and follow the path you are given. this is very personal for me, and i write these things out as part of my journal and sojourn. please be respectful. regardless, love is what matters.