The Divine Feminine

When I think of

the Divine Feminine

I do not think of

the Virgin Mary,

pristine and inaccessible.

I do not think

of Botticelli’s Venus,

naked and beckoning

on the half shell.

I do not think of Sita

devotedly following Rama

into the forest

or Kali locked together with Shiva

in eternal embrace.

I think of my grandmothers.

Marie, who fought against the Nazi’s

in the Communist underground

then came to America

and joined the CP-USA.

Riva, who fled Lithuania,

in the wake of pogroms,

also came to America

and joined the CP-USA.

I think of my mother

who survived the Holocaust

got out of East Germany

in the nick of time

and tried to make a better revolution

here.

I think of the women

whose stories inspired me

and helped make me

who I am.

Lucy Parsons.

Rosa Parks.

Angela Davis.

Sarah and Angelina Grimke.

Insta Theamba.

Rachel Carson.

Marge Piercy.

Aung San Suu Kyi.

Maria Sabina.

Sappho.

Especially, I think of

Jenny.

I think of

the invisible,

the impoverished,

the unrecognized,

whose backs are crooked

from carrying wood and water on their heads

and hands are shriveled

from washing and mending and working in the fields

dawn until dusk

to fill my local supermarket

with every imaginable delicacy

and provide their precious children

barely enough to eat.

I think of my daughter

singing

anger and joy and pride and pain.

I see her

laughing

at the boys and men

who carelessly, callously

tear at her.

I catch her

falling dazed

by the spectacle.

and when I

fall

she catches

me.

I think of mothers and daughters

everywhere.

I think of the feminine side

of myself.

I let the world in.

I allow myself to be soft

and pretty.

I adorn myself

with flowers

and dance in flowing skirts.

I make myself strong,

as a woman must be strong

to survive

and bear gracefully

a load that would crush a strong men

and still

in fleeting moments

illuminate the whole dark world

with a laugh,

a song

or a single perfect

gesture.

I think of the Earth

bearing, nourishing and nurturing

all things.

These are the goddesses,

the heroes,

the role models

enshrined

in the temple of my heart.

These are the real

Muses

who inspire all of my songs.

The others,

the ancient archetypes,

Isis,

Inanna,

Shakti,

Sarah,

Ixchel,

though I also revere them,

they would not seem so real to me

if I had not seen them,

heard them,

been touched by them

when I have been touched

by the women

in my life.