[Editors’ Note: Learn about how the “Nine Poets Speak” series came to be in place here.]

Art, Jane Starr Weils, https://www.etsy.com/shop/JaneStarrWeils…
When the world seems completely mad and I question my place in this time, I turn inward and breathe in the wisdom and rituals of my ancestors. Like the reindeer herds guided by the Ancient Deer Goddess and the more modern Elen of the Ways, I follow the energetic paths that sustain me. Moving along these ancient paths, these ley lines or dragon lines, I move along the edge and in the shadows, finding the threads of memory which bring meaning to this time.
As I dance with both Inanna and Erishkigal, I release the possessions and ways of being of this world. Wielding the sword of An’ Morrighan in her full triplicity, I simultaneously feel one foot in the ancient world of Isis and Sekhmet, knowing they too – among generations of other women – all walk beside me.
Sitting in circle, engaged in ritual, riding the drum in my hands toward the sustenance of solace and a renewed strength, I remember.
I am as old as the stone mothers and as new as the sickle moon making her first appearance.
I am a Way-Shower, Memory-Keeper, Path Weaver, Healer, Artist, Writer and, perhaps most important, I am a Daughter of the Great Goddess.
As I follow my breath to the memory of all those who came before and all those who stand beside me in this now… breathing deep into my inner power and knowings… I am connected and grounded to those things that sustain me.
Though Patriarchy attempts to strangle us in the throws of its last breath, as it devalues humanity in all its many forms, something even more powerful is birthing in the wet and dark, cavernous deep.
Closing my eyes and moving forward – remembering there is still work to do in this time and place – I hear the heralding call that sounds round the world.
WOMAN RISE!
It is time to pick up that sword, that pen, that paint brush and tell YOUR story, both past and that which is anxious to birth.
It is time to find your voice as you Allow that guttural scream, the one that is the deep and primal female, to reverberate around the world.
WOMAN RISE!
We are now in the times of ancient prophecy and we must each pick up our own sword.
A Woman’s Sword, ©Arlene Bailey, 2025
(Meet Mago Contributor) Arlene Bailey – Return to Mago E*Magazine