poetry from the womb ~ a true story

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This poem was written by a very special woman I know, straight after a menstrual cycle workshop. The words came flowing out.

I have her permission to post it (thank you), and am doing so in the spirit of celebrating any person’s journey into deepening their connection with their cycle, with the entire spectrum of emotions we all encounter throughout the cycles of our lives.

I also want to share it to celebrate the transformation of this monthly process from a place of unfamiliarity to a place where it’s presence is accepted and embodied and is an integrated ‘part of you’. Menstrual cycle work is magic.

Into the dawn I stride, reborn.
The green rising spring
Brings new hope and light.
I take time, to stand upon the
Cool grass and find balance.
The soft glow upon my face
Speaks to me of potential.

And from within the Fire rises
The pulsing passion swells my
Breast. My heart is wide open.
My hair flowing, my lips parted
The very spark of the Goddess
Is in my eye. I am Power
and radiant. I am Life.

Then the tide of time turns
The fruit is over-ripe and
Rotting. Darkness visits upon
My imagination and all begins
To chafe and wear.
RAGE. Intolerance of waste.
I feel the heavy thunderclouds form.

Finally they spill their rain
It feels like Death has come again
And loss, and grief, and futility
Drag my core down into the grave.
I weep; I weep for the pain of the Earth
and her children; for war
And the oblivion of the dark night.

Then… into the dawn I stride… once more.

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