Maiden, Mother, Crone
Poems Written During the
Writing from Life Workshop
February 12, 2005
Beautiful as fresh earth was she.
No thoughts of her mortality.
Spirited and playful she opened wide her wings.
She flew with no concerns for sun-lit spot to sun-lit spot.
All the other creatures adored her and vied for her attentions.
As she stands in the light and sees all that is hers,
Her beauty is reflected in the clear, sparkling pond.
She held this moment in her heart for future days.
Naiveté rules the day.
Untouched, virginal and angelic being--
But, hark! Hades reaches out his hand.
He is strong and handsome; she is under is spell.
And he, under hers. A struggle begins.
Mommy.s little girl.is having powerful feelings!
No longer a girl, a woman she becomes--
Ophelia, Juliet, Persephone.
A diva with one aria, .me.me.me.me..and a pomegranate seed.
Am I not the most perfect little girl you.ve ever seen?
Not a cookie cutter child, pink and ruffled.
I love to run and shout . perhaps even scuffle.
I.ve never worn anything that had a ruffle.
No, A-line dresses are made for me.
Trying to become the woman mom wants me to be?
But blue jeans and pigtails are my uniform, digging in dirt.
No one, no one, will dare to call me a sissy.
I will be true to myself and if you don.t like it, that.s okay.because you are not me.
She is innocently voluptuous, full of life and hopes and dreams..
Invulnerable, invincible, she shakes her hair in the wind
Symbolizing beauty from without and within.
A fairy, a nymph, a wish and a whim.
Playful and spirited, she forges ahead.
She approaches a still pond that reflects her beauty into the air.
Her innocence is profound.
Her wisdom.beyond her years.
Softness, home-ness, all-encompassing loving-ness,
Mother is the one described above.
My children are seen but not heard.
I am singing a love song to them.
I see to it that the children are fed, though I may be weary to the bone.
But so strong am I, that the job must be finished.
I.ll fight to the end, to guide and nourish,
To set good examples so the young will flourish.
While also taking time to honor myself.
She loved me more than anyone else could
I always wanted to make her proud.
But I needn.t have worried; she loved me as I was.
And taught me to give as well, because
She always thought of me first.
So, by example, I too, give love
To the world, even at its worst.
Hoping it will give me its best.
But, if not, ok.this world is not my home.
She taught me to love life and take pleasure in all the world has to offer.
Sweet lessons of giving, sharing and taking.
Gently, sweetly, she touched everyone around her.
Her influence still strong, even though she.s gone,
Always to be remembered as the one who brought me life
Once daughter and maiden, then grown and wife.
Now, facing my own final days,
I see the lessons of Motherhood passed on to my daughter,
As she will pass them on to hers, thereby granting us all immortality.
In the most giving stage of her life
Nurture demanding chicks first, now teaching fledglings to fly.
Putting aside personal needs and wants,
But encouraging fledglings to look outside the nest.
Now showing them that the whole world is theirs for the taking.
Then showing theirs is also a world for giving,
And sharing and growing and learning to love.
Covering her eyes as they leap out of the nest,
Only to discover that now comes the time of her life.
She knew about life; she knew about death.
She was still trying to figure out the in-between.
To take from it what she must.
She has given birth; she has shoveled grave dirt.
She has cried a river of tears
To pass on her wisdom through the years
She treasures now those she holds dear
Then, says good-bye with no regrets and returns to the earth from whence she came,
leaving behind memories carried in the hearts of all she knew.
I wish there were a more flattering term for this wisest of ages.
Perhaps we could use the word .queen..
But a crone may not be what it seems,
Wearing purple and a red hat.Miss Daisy,
Feels more positive than the tall black-hat image of the past.
So, let.s create our own image.that of
The wise old queen wearing purple and dancing a jig,
Holding court, showing the maiden what she can become.
And having fun.till the end.having fun!
Here I am a Nubian crone at last
I.ve finally reached wisdom and truth
About all things uncertain.and now
I can play the games of life using my own rules
And living the kind of life I want.
Relishing rich memories of a full breasted being,
I am indeed, the queen of my queeendom!
Finally, the inside has become the outside
I can relish the strength of experience.
I am in the brilliance of my life
I have the knowledge of the ages
I wear my skin in comfort
The beauty of my youth still reflects in my eyes.
Often there is no need for words
As if my presence is enough.
Older, wiser, beauty blossoms on the inside and shines through translucent skin
Having lived a full life, ready to steer forward to the end,
I have been maiden, mother, now crone.my shining is still, steady and present.
Last updated: 02/12/05