Mother Earth speaks–a poem about the harvest

It’s harvest time–and the fall equinox approaches

Mother Earth speaks to us all the time, but sometimes we (or at least I–I’ll speak for myself) forget to listen.

I’ve been listening to Clarissa Pinkola Estés on my rides to and from school. Right now, I’m listening to “The Power of the Crone: Myths and Stories of the Wise Woman Archetype, Volume 2.” She’s done a number of classes produced by Sounds True–and most of them are available from my library. I first heard of her years ago when she published Women Who Run with the Wolves.

She talks about normalcy being the enemy of the gifted person and about how the crone encourages us to be ourselves in all our imperfect glory. At the end of this session, she shared a poem/blessing that really touched me. I couldn’t find it written anywhere, but here are a few of my favorite lines (as I heard them–they may not be precisely right)

I’m the backwoods woman meeting the city teacups

And the gypsy

at the convent of the straight-lipped nuns

And the giantess

at the dance of the ants

And the banshee

running with the French poodles…

Mother Earth speaks

I’m not quite sure how that poem led to my poem, “Mother Earth speaks,” but it did. And it strikes me as rather a strange poem. But as a banshee among the poodles, I say, “what the heck–might as well go for it!” (oooh–I almost said a bad word, too, I guess I am embracing my wildness!)

It also made me think of my “Gnome G-poem“–or maybe I’m just thinking about it because fall is almost here and as a long-time Waldorf early childhood teacher, I always think about gnomes in the fall.

And today is also Poetry Friday. This week, our host, Laura Salas, shares some poems from her new book, Snack, Snooze, Skedaddle about animals preparing for winter. (You can enter to win a copy of her book on her website–the drawing will be on Monday, September 16, 2019)

:

Mother Earth Speaks

Welcome fall, time of harvest.

Time to gather in the gifts

I’ve made to nourish you.

I transformed the light of the sun,

The waters, the air

And my own essence—

For you

I’m the fecund earth giving you

The fruits of my body with joy.

But don’t think that I’m gentle

For though I love you

As I love all my children

Still, one day you will be my harvest.

You will be transformed

into light, air, water, spirit

then you will nourish me.

That’s all for today.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by.

xoxo