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I wrote this poem to celebrate the divine feminine to illustrate the importance of honoring the creative beauty of woman spirit. I wrote this poem to honor my mother, her mother, my daughter and every woman who has come before her. Without women, we would lose the fire and the flame of life. We need to recognize the need for a true balance of power.
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Women being burned to death
within the burning times,
burned because they were accused of being witches…
women with power.
I am burning bread
in my fireplace
in the midst of ritual
paying homage to the bread makers and the bread eaters
who just want to have a firm hold on life…
the flames lick the air as if they were fingers
reaching for the hems of the women…
Women being burned to death
within the burning times
burned because they were accused of being witches…
women of power.
The burning times are still here
living alive, laughing and licking the air
waiting for their next meal, waiting…
bread eaters still making bread
while working on the promises
dancing and living in the hearts of their heads
while being in the honored moments
within a container so sacred you only hear sounds of chakra healing
the putting out of the flames of fear and hate
the rituals of unholy flames… we need to change the echoes
change the language of our songs.
Women being burned to death
within the burning times
burned because they were accused of being witches…
women of power.
When we fan the flame of power
note the fact you are waving
your arms in circular motions
to either put the flames out or to fire them up
always coming back to the center of your intention
in your act of clapping hands within the midair
in a quest to control the rolling of the wind and the raining of the sky…
it is not our true nature to be in control of everyone’s breathing
or their walkabouts thinking of love and peace
within they have no rights to deny the rain
or the breathing of the clouds that glide by.
They are just sharing they gifts… the
the bread eaters and their kind.
Compassionate souls in the midst of rituals
of feeding the flames of life
being their powerful selves
women being burned to death
within the burning times of echoes of repetition
still burning in the modern times
her and her kind…her village or her tribe
burned because they were accused of being witches
or lovers of witches those women of power…
the divine feminine of the human soul.
The time of burning must cease
the burning of the valuable
the burning that is just an act of fear.
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