Seed Bearer

Yesterday old eyes

stung –

fierce white

heat –

blurred vision.

 

Singing love songs,

I scattered seeds

in furrows

raked smooth,

tucked tufts

under stone…

 

Imagining

a Wildflower riot!

Bittersweet orange,

blue and gold

winding through

rice grass –

sage scrub,

vining over

wave -like gopher mounds.

 

I curb wild imaginings.

High Desert

discerns

what springs

to life – who

will bear flowers

or fruit –

not me.

 

I am Seed Bearer,

Earth’s Daughter –

a woman who

honors her Mother

by aligning herself with

Her Will.

 

Seedcasting

opens the door

to Ancient Story –

Original Memory is

restored.

 

“Mother’s day”

occurs just

as the snow

recedes,

on the cusp

of dark wings

who flash crimson

in the heat of the

son.

IMG_0708.JPG

(Cattails dispersing seeds just as I do…)

Working Notes:

I wrote this poem on March 25th without the conscious awareness that I was participating (for the first time this year) in the most ancient practice of seed sowing while honoring that first mother’s day with seed songs…

Because women’s stories live through me it no longer matters what my conscious intention may or may not be. My mind – heart body knows what to do and just when to do it.

Originally, ‘mother’s day’ was a celebration of the Earth Mother whose early spring stirrings begin in the northern hemisphere in late March. Thirty years ago when I first discovered this information in a book of women’s mythology I was struck by the feeling sense of discovering a profound truth that has been buried by Patriarchy.

So it remains to this this day.

 

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