voice of a woman
wisdom night,
singing in silence,
when i knew
hunger, too;
and the winter world
crying like blizzards.
a book of stone,
its words moved me,
stars spiralled above,
called to love;
as a hungry world
howled aloneness.
the feel of truth,
hewn from suffering,
tempered steel
solid, real;
in a darkened world
dying in Darfur.
the godless globe,
facing the goddess moon,
indigo dawn,
late, autumn;
my Mother, the world
orphaned your book-stones.
November 21st, 2006 at 12:09 am
This is true… including us. We are stardust… as that old Joni Mitchell song goes. You know the one - Woodstock.