poetry

Make Way for Woman to Rise. {poetry}

 

In these turbulent times, this poem is an invocation.

It’s an invitation to all those who identify as women, reminding them they have the wisdom and the power within and without to save humanity from self-destruction. The poem seeks to ignite the following remembrance within: when we know our true worth, the system of deceit and lies that controls can no longer hurt us. The fog of amnesia lifts and transmutes helplessness to courage and fierce love.

The poem harnesses these Feminine energies and urges patriarchy to wake up and recognize that the world it thinks it owns, will perish if Woman continues to be shackled. Just trust, release her, and let her rise. For she knows the way out of the mess humanity is in.

It begins with a woman looking back at her past and seeing the truth with clarity how she was gaslighted into believing that, as a young woman of color, she was just not good enough.

It continues, using the voice of a crone who no longer wants to remain silent about the damage patriarchy has done to Woman. The crone becomes the archetypal Great Black Mother Kali, whose fiery eyes burn down lies.

It calls out and inspires all those who identify as women to follow the stance of a crone, who laughs at this world built on sticks of fear, and who is no longer willing to shrink to make patriarchy look like a giant.

This poem is a clarion call for reinstating Woman back into society. When we make way for Woman to rise, she will save humanity and Mother Earth. It’s that simple, really. And urgent.

Make Way as I Rise

What I wanna know is
How did you get away with it?
Convincing me
it was my fault
I didn’t get the job.
You told me
I just wasn’t good enough.

How did you gaslight me
Into believing
I was a waste
Of human resources
The day I declared
I was with child?

But today,
No More!
I see you.
I laugh at your world
Built on sticks of fear
And control.

For I am crone
No longer a maid.
The fire in my eyes
burn down lies.
You got it wrong.
You destroyed my body.
Well, almost!
I’m still here.

I am crone.
I stand tall.
No More!
I’m done with playing
Your games of deceit.

I’m done with shrinking
To a size that makes
You look like a giant.

No More!
I won’t let you
Dilute Love
And Passion

Soaring through
My blood and bones.

I am crone.
Without my power,
This world you think you own
Ain’t gonna last.
So why don’t you wake up?
Wipe off the fog of fear.

I am crone.
I carry the wisdom
That’ll save you from destruction.
You choose.

It’s simple really.
Make way as I rise,
And save Mother Earth.

***

Bindu Narula was born in India and calls Australia home. She is the mother of two adult daughters, and has swapped her mothering duties to serve as a light worker. Bindu combines Reiki and meditation to support and facilitate clients choosing to live in a conscious way. She is a lover of the Great Mother, just like the women of her bloodline, who were dancers and storytellers. In her workshops, Bindu invites participants to use movement and meditation to retrieve all the pieces of body, and mind lost to busyness, self-neglect, people-pleasing and addictions. She believes that when women gather in Sacred Circle, the divisive fog of amnesia hatched by patriarchy lifts and transmutes to love. Bindu writes poems to speak up for the forgotten women of her lineage, and Mother Earth. She shares poems and blog posts on her website and on Instagram.

***

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