Antlers held high she steps over the stones,
moving through bracken as she hears Her calling.
The Old One.
Cailleach.
Old Antlered One.
She who is older than all names.
Catching a glimpse in the pool
she stops to listen.
Guardians of the waters
moved by the winds
coming in from the shore.
The woman offers a prayer
and leaves a token as if to say,
I remember.
Climbing higher into the hills
the wind howls, the voice
she hears calling her riding the wind.
Sure-footed though she moves, for she
has walked this path many times, both in
this lifetime and many that came before.
Finally she sees the old shrine
and the cave holding the bones of all
the women who’ve come before.
At the entrance she bows
and makes an offering
to the old ones,
the Memory Keepers.
Then calling forth her
own ancestral memories
and strength for these days,
with tears in her eyes
for the sacredness of it all,
The Woman Who Wears Antlers
bows to the call.
[Author’s Note: Once upon a time we knew the old stories, the rituals, those special places within the land. We honored Mother Earth, Gaia, Pacha Mama and more namings through our attentions, our prayers, and the roots we planted within future generations. We walked in silent reverence upon her body honoring her cycles as our cycles, her myths as wisdom for living. We poured out libations and left food, for humans knew they were only part of the whole, part of the All. Once upon a time.
I’m sharing a poem and a painting that came through me many moons ago, but feel even more relevant today as we seek to honor and protect our Mother, as we strive to find our place as humans in the great order.]
(Meet Mago Contributor) Arlene Bailey
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Poem – The Woman Who Wears Antlers by Arlene Bailey ©2020