poetry

Call Me by My Name: Musings on the Goddess. {poetry}

 

The mission of this collection of poems is to speak to the innate divinity of us all.

It is meant to bring the reader on a journey beyond human experience — a journey into their own sacred soul. It speaks to releasing anything that no longer serves us, to identifying with our power rather than our trauma. It is a call to proudly claim our feminine energy, to remember the fierceness of the Goddess.

These poems represent the unique path we each take, as we awaken and realize that our birthright is worthiness and that our mission is love. This is a sequence of the Rasa Lila, the divine dance of life. Lift up your arms. Let me spin you around.

 

Angels and saints broke out into song
the day you were thought up.
All power and sinew
All purpose and sanguine.

Meticulous placement of every cell
The champion sound
of you coming into existence.

Try to tell me you were not born from miracle.
Try to tell me you were not written in every star.

Tell me the truth.
Tell me you are defined only by the sacred song
of your first breath.
Tell me you are not strong because you overcome
You overcome because you are strong.

When they say ‘victim’
and expect you to respond
When they say ‘survivor’
and expect you to be grateful
Tell them:

“Do not call me by my trauma.
Call me by my name.
Call me by my birthright that is power.
Call me by the angel’s song
Call me by the saints on their knees
at my conception.”
Tell them,
“I am whole.”
Tell them,
“We are whole.”
You are not a phoenix.
You were born a flame.
There is no ash in your throat
when you say,
Call me by my name.”

Saraswati, My Soul

Om Aim Shreem Hreem Saraswati Devyai Namaha

She is coy but fearless
She is all of gold
When you lie with her
She molds herself to fit around you:
You are safe in her silence.
You are cradled in her quiet.

She is vulnerable but resilient
Silken and bulletproof
She keeps gunpowder under her tongue
And a flame in her throat —
Her mouth is a fire escape
Where there is ache to burn.

She is soft and sensuous
Innocent and ancient
She hums
And the wind takes her song
So that creation can listen
So it can echo the chorus.

Medicina

I stare at that window above the couch,
The one draped with gold and saffron paisley.
Right now it is just a window;
Last night it was the Buddha staring back at me.

I hear Jess strumming her guitar on the porch;
She is hardly human.
All music and movement,
It feels like sin
To daydream of kissing her.
Last night she let me touch her with vines and flowers.

Today she hums and sways
And I try not to imagine
The honey on her lips.

Karine, Sal, and Emily dance around the room
They snack on mangoes and apricots
When I look at any one of them for too long
Tears swim down my cheeks.

Last night as I wept by the crackling fire
They were a pride of lions
Guardians at my side.

Last night I heard somebody say Roger’s name
Roger said, “Ah, I love that story.”

Gretchen is laughing her big billowing laugh.
I am on the porch
She, the living room
And I still hear her.

Tomorrow I will be on a plane
She will be on another plane
I will still hear her.

Today she speaks with a sailor’s tongue
She is sharp and she is not sorry
And she is every bit of God.

For a moment I stand outside of myself
To watch these souls do the Rasa Lila above their shadows.

I watch them
And they are all Krishna
Staring back at me.

Rasa Lila

Divine mother
Eternal meditation
Final plié
of the Rasa Lila.

Blush lies atop cheeks
that no longer absorb color.
Rhythmic breath
Rendered silent
The mother cradling the soul
At last,
the trembling bones at ease.
You, a gold beam,
or maybe white.
You, a smile
You, a silver wisp of hair
Lying gently on the face of the woman
you are not anymore.

This story is finished.
You were an excellent writer.
You were an excellent dancer.

Now go dance some more.

***

Aurena Green is a graduate of Christopher Newport University in Newport News, Virginia. She graduated in May 2017 with a major in Psychology and a minor in Spanish. She has been writing poetry and prose for as long as she can remember; the page was her first best friend and confidant. She has a passion for healing the world, and hopes to continue to devote her life to just that as she continues on her path.

***

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