we remember you, mother
embodied in our bodies
whose arms stretch to reach
your waxing and waning above,
as within us you rise
to flash silver under skin
this knowing is timeless
how the goddess in us speaks
through mouths so long closed
and how we allowed our lips
to be sewn shut,
and stopped teaching our daughters
the rhythms of the earth, your wisdom
it was love that threaded the needle
for his thicker fingers, love
that gave our silence
but was it love that rode over us
with wheels carrying new gods
and finally the God,
the one who suggested
that our heads be covered
in his house, or cut
the hair caressing rivers
over our backs,
a murmuring distraction
streaming over shoulders,
or braided in nets
to tangle and trap hands
longing to free that flow
was it love that burned us
yes, we tempt
yes, we distract
yes, our bodies are doorways
to pleasure and life
as is all flesh
is it love that stones us
perhaps
we live closer to matter,
matrix, substance
as we build and hold life in us;
but division here
is a lie, an exercise
of semantics
when we are all one thing
and joy in it
is it love that divides us
our children know it
before words,
and hold this knowing after language,
until we thread that needle
is it love that breaks us
tonight
we remember you
mother
in our bodies
with these voices
drawing you down from night
is it love that feeds us
taking you up
through feet pressed intimately
& deeply past growing things
and into stone, our roots
deeper and drinking
it is love that frees us
unlearning a lie
we knelt to, a lie
that covers heads,
closes eyes
and silences
remember
we threaded that needle
and ours are the hands
that must stop sewing
***this is an old, old, reworked poem from some 20 years ago. I removed some of the anger and added gentleness (I think). Posting it for dVerse open link–you need to post there, people–, because although it goes against my faith as I experience it now, I still think it has a few things to say that are worth hearing.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
I would be interested to read the first version as well. Nicely done.. I really liked this.
Audra–glad you liked this. I might share that first version some other time 🙂
perhaps
we live closer to matter,
matrix, substance
as we hold life in us;
but division here
is a lie, an exercise
of semantics
when we are all one thing
and joy in it
I think that this really does speak to a prejudice that often goes unnamed among people. Women are faulted for being closer to the world and not as abstract, detached and other-worldly as men and yet men and women alike often despise this quality when they see it in other men too.
When I think about what makes poetry “feminine” for so many people (and makes young male poets “gay” unless they are aggressive) it is the admission of being “closer to matter.” When I think about many of the men I have known and what sometimes bonds them it is a quality of detachment or detachment as an act, a gambit. Your poem speaks to this which, I think, is part of how men and women play at being men and women but which is often overlooked.
Jeremy, spot on! I have never understood men who say they are connecting to a “feminine side” when they connect to their emotions. I always thought it was a human side, and, sadly, we learn as women it is fine to express it but men should not. I must add, though, that this prejudice does flow both ways–a cerebral (detached) woman is often seen as more masculine. We are such strange animals.
I agree that this does go both ways. I have seen it many times.
I see the prejudice but more in the church or religion that believes women should be ‘unseen’ and ‘unheard’. ugh (that and not this. this is briliiant!)
LOL, Rhonda–that is part of the reason for my separation from the Baptists, mouthy woman that I am. Thanks for liking this 🙂
Well, the Baptists and the Catholics share this prejudice…and it sucks. None of them would exist without that which they seek to keep silent and invisible. Bad Form!
Agreed.
Ah, I like this…it says a lot
Thanks so much!
The oldies are such goodies!
🙂 yes, I liked this one (just needed some tweaking).
Really liking it and the great flow
Ian, thank you. I was going to hook up another poem to dVerse today, but you and Audra are making me think perhaps I should link this to them today.
You are such a great poetress, Susan. You string words so beautifully.
Oh, Celestine–thank you (reddening over here).
the voice is there, challenging and also affirming – amazing how institutions reproduce and reinforce myths, and the care they deploy to disguise the functionality of such myths! well done, Susan
Imela, Noel! Now I face a dilemma–does this one go to dVerse, or “Birth of the Moon?”
Good problem to have, I guess 🙂
dVerse!
Thank you 🙂 I was having a hard time deciding—BTW, if you want me to post one for you over there for open link day, I will be glad to, just tell me which one–that opens in 2 hours. The link to that site is http://dversepoets.com/
this knowing is timeless
how the goddess in us speaks
through mouths so long closed
nice…and then the sewn shut mouths and in the end the truth of our own hands being the ones that did it and needing to stop…powerful piece…
Thank you, Brian. Yes. We need to acknowledge some voluntary giving over of power, perhaps–or perhaps the word I seek here is complicity.
great title here, and once again, you seem to be able to have an element of neruda in it. very nice susan:))
Thanks, Don 🙂
Ah, if only I was as transcendent as Neruda…but flushing at the comparison!
Yes, well I would see Catholicism written all through it, as we ourselves and our own pain and our own frustration and the coins that covered the eyes of the dead for centuries – roman coins for mine – covered my own too long. Now the splinters of faith fall unattached belonging to an out of date, out of time, controlling hysteria of the dark ages link to a lost empire. My faith is true to my nature and I’ve pulled loose the stitches and am now waving free. Well composed poem, the refrain very powerful pulling the meaning into tight meanings.
Gay–thank you so much. Love the image of the coins covering the eyes of the dead–brilliant and sorry I didn’t think of that 😀
Glad you are waving free and also glad this spoke to you.
An exercise of semantics/when we are all one thing…
That’s the crux of it…isn’t it?
Yes.
I love this!
thank you
what a beautiful, deep and insightful poem!
and yes it is up to us to unlearn the lie and
ours are the hands
that must stop sewing
thank you
thank you, Ruth!
Wow, amazing poem. Very rich and layered!
thanks so much, Steven!
unlearning a lie
we knelt to, a lie
that covers heads,
closes eyes
Very powerful!
Thanks so much for commenting 🙂
Drawing down that moon and embracing the divine feminine that has been stigmatized through the ages. This was wonderful…imagine truly finding a balance between what is and what should be…that…would be magical.
Oh, yes, it truly, truly would be magical. Or truly divine. Depending on one’s spirituality 🙂
you invoke deep, authentic power with this consummate blessing. it is brave and beautiful, just like you.
Jane–thank you so very much. Turning red over here again…
Beautifully expressed, powerful words. I love the recurring threading of the needle.
Thank you, Emily!
love is all of that
and still the best of all things
some sewing is making
Yes, some sewing is making.
we threaded that needle
and ours are the hands
that must stop sewing…love this..
Thank you, Claudia 🙂
I like that it comes and goes with the needle and the different impacts of live. It’s a very clever poem.
Thanks Holly!
I think this definately came across as gentle….but retained an elegant power (if that makes sense) – its funny, I always thought about the moon as being a man- (maybe that’s because I’m a man too) but I know lots who also see the moon as feminine
I think the moon is who we perceive it to be–and is both male and female. As long as we assign one gender to divinity, we are definitely missing the point, if we are all indeed created in the image of the divine 🙂
Thanks so much for commenting!
It is love that does it all.. so I think it is with love, that we must stop sewing, if we must.
Very interesting, and beautifully conceived poem, Susan 🙂
Leo
Thanks, Leo. I agree with you 🙂
“perhaps
we live closer to matter,
matrix, substance
as we build and hold life in us;” this line struck me deeply… a magnificent poem through and through
Laura–thanks so much!