Dark Mother

Mother Love It is not with mine eyes that I turn from your dark embrace for I have seen those arms enfolding me as I slumber. It was your womb that held me as I healed and grew, your lips that spoke my name when others turned away.
It was your gentle fingers that moved me from madness and your tender touch that ever so gently nudged me from your breast.

See also:
Embracing the Dark
Dark Mirror

Posted in


Tiana (not verified) | Mon, 07/31/2006 - 6:23pm

Here's a response in poem, since your poetry has inspired mine!

Mother Divine

And with what shall thee crown thy hair –
With firelight a-glimmering?
Night sings its way into this air,
And thou art shimmering.

Thy cheeks colored with roses’ dew,
Thy breath soft-scented by pine,
Safe the snuggling beneath thy breasts;
“Mother,” I cry. Can I give myself over to The Divine?

And what shall be thy promises?
Will thou feed me; will I neither want nor care?
Will I be as a babe that from thy kindness lives,
Or as a crystal for thy hair?

And what shalt thee croon, when the air grows dark,
To comfort this babe, whom thou hast marked?
Or will I be left, to struggle with breath,
Once thou hast flown, apart?

The numinous, the luminous, the glimmering
Touches me here.
In storm, in shriek, in shimmering, Mother
Deity does appear.

-Tiana Diaz (a pagan who looked for Reclaiming Collectives in her area
and found your website)

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