Sometimes I think
Children see all the faces
of the goddess.
As their mothers spin
With the seasons
Walk the wheel
Of their lives.
Now I step out into spring
The sun stirs me
I glow and smile.
Tell me
You don't just believe
in Mother Mary?
Endless giving, endless loving.
She is but one
Of many mothers.
Do your children see
The dark power of the moon?
The vulnerability?
Face pale and wan
Like a priestess,
Prophetess?
Do they see you hug your comforts
To you like a cloak
To warm your bones?
As you journey
Through the long, dark night.
Blessed are the babies
Who sit at the feet of the cosmic mother
As she waxes and wanes
They will know
What it is
To be blood and bone,
Earth and wild
Magic and light.
- Jenny Wren
