And
so she was smudged out
Embarked
on her equivalent of the walkabout
Went
to a spot in the big open space
Let
things unfold at their own pace
Spent
most of the time under the tree
Just
letting herself, just be
And
gently little ceremonies came
From
celebrations to dealing with shame
The
cacti called from its quivering tops to entangled roots
It
spoke of love – its numerous spikes and abundant fruits
She
recalled great partnerships that she knew
And
explored her anima and animus anew
Then
she burnt a photo of him, hoped as the one
Honoured
her body and its setting sun
Walked
naked under the wide blue sky
Talked
to all, the ravens, tarantula, even the fly
Accepted
her loved ones whole heartedly
Rolled
on love’s threshing floor madly
The
wise tree sculptures made their call
The
rock said, shame keeps you small
She
destroyed the cowpat of doubt
Kicked
it, kicked it, kicked it about
The
stone of regret was also let go
Fears
subdued on night walks in a starry glow
She
sent blessings to family, friends and fasters
And
danced with her woman shadow masters
She
pulled on the rope which held her back
And
questioned, what really did she lack?
The
cacti again made her smile
And
she took a walk down an aisle
The
ceremony was an act of self love
Witnessed
from mother earth and the moon above
In
the purpose circle that long last night
She
saw perhaps her gifts offer light
Could
that really be true she wondered?
Back
to the embrace of all she wandered.
Poem:
© Penelope Mavor 2014
Image: own
