sunset self-portrait . gearhart, oregon . august 20, 2010
I come from quiet, storming stardust
I come from skipping stones on seven rivers
I come from reflected, reaching purple mountains
I come from the unafraid, soaring shadow of the heron's wing
I come from the moaning, oming whales
Shadow, bring me exploding courage
Bring me stretching, inward roots
Shadow, bring me sun-centered source
Come back to me stardust, fill me with delight
Come back to me skipping, plopping stones, bring me the stories
Come back to me
Come back to me
This evening, I spent time with a group of incredible women at a local doula meeting. I was the guest speaker, and they gave me the gift of letting me share some of my stories and then indulging me when I asked if we could write some poetry. My body is still vibrating a bit with the beauty that reveals itself when women share their stories and unearth the poems that live inside them.
As I drove home, I felt called to find a legal pad that sits under the pile of many things beside my bed. This paper houses the poems I have written at several workshops and the words that pushed me to begin this blog. As I read the poem above that I wrote in a 2008 workshop with (the goddess of life who is) Susan Wooldridge, I am struck by the truths it holds and deeply wish that someone had whispered my own words to me a year ago. There is beauty to be found in revisiting our writing and seeing ourselves reflected. In this moment, I am grateful to my younger self for her wisdom and bravery that would hold her through all that was to come.