Poem: a wild hymn

a wild hymn 

 

Their footprints gather around the stone. 

 

The ancient birthburial ground. 

The place hidden among the lindens.  

 

It’s as if I can see them here, women in the woodland;

knelt in prayer, anointed, weaving, drumming

through the centuries. 

 

Maybe                I’ve been here before. 

Maybe                this is from some other time, 

                            some other body. 

Maybe                here I made my plea 

                            to the woman in the linden tree

               

           And she answered. 

 

She sent out silken soldiers, retrieved my wishes,

 and has returned for me

lifetimes later, to my new body and says

“Come.”

 

Dark                     Light

Mother                 Lover

                Queen 

 

I’m back in time, surrounded 

by ancient women and from their goddess’s forest

uprose a wild hymn.

It thrills through me, opens up my bones like husks

and I’m with her. 

 

Branches grow from my shoulders, adorned

with emerald leaves, bright berries.

My skin is bark. 

My face, smoothed wood. 

 

Ancestors. Only as strong as their memories known. 

I stand in their long-eroded footprints around the stone. 

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