Saturday, June 4, 2011

Two Wild Women Walk Together

Wild Woman of the North
woke up her first morning
nestled into the root-bowl
of Grandmother Cedar.
Her first breath was
of salt and the sea,
and her glance opened
on giant pines
poking tall spires
through morning sea-fog,
and a great blue heron
picky-toeing his way
along the
water’s edge.

Wild Woman of the South
began her soul journey
beside the sea,
where her every dawn
saw the sun rise
from the bending bowl-edge
of a watery horizon
and her cheek was brushed
by the cold fingertips of
an on-shore breeze.                                         
                             
Wolf pups came
to entice her to play,
and they gambolled happily
together
on the
sandy shore,
turning over scuttling crabs,
clambering up
the molten rock
to poke
stubby fingers and paws
into the tummies of
retreating anemones.
They snacked on kelp
and fiddlehead,
and sipped dewdrops
daintily
from cupped salal.

The morning beach embraced her
when, as a wild child at play,
she lay upon the sand to peer
down tiny holes the crabs made
when the waves
chased themselves
back to their parent breakers,
or when she held a new continent
in her handful of silica
and shattered shells.

Growing wild
along the shore,
child of the forest,
lover of the sea,
she watched Brother Eagle
making lazy spirals,
wind-surfing the sky,
her teenaged dreams
flying along
on his feathered wings,
on mellow afternoons
when the tide was out
and fishermen
not yet home
from the sea.

And now it is
just before evening,
a rosy dusk
creeping across
the encroaching hills,
which blush rose-red
like a startled matron,
surprised
at her toilette.

A cyan sky of afternoon arched
its beautiful body
above her tangled teenaged head
and her back was turned
on the silver surf
as her path took her into the hills
and valleys of mist
where a smooth river stone
joined the creamy cowrie
she kept in her pocket.

The first star
of evening
turns her direction
homeward,
back to the sea-cave
where her family waits –
two now elderly wolf-pups
with grizzled muzzles,
who raise their heads and thump their tails
slowly,
when she appears,
and whose gaze never leaves her
as she prepares
the evening meal,
the meal that will be
their last together,
for her guardians
have now
grown old.

And now, at eventide,
the Wild Woman of the South
must watch the barrier of spears
prick the dying sun
until its inky blood flows over
mountain range,
and her unchained heart
cries out for the voice of the sea
to sing her to sleep
once more.

Towards midnight,
Wild Woman
stands alone
once more
beside the shore,
the only sound
the sursurration
of the lapping waves,
moving through her being
like a pulse.
Sister to the Moon,
her hair now
long and silvered,
she hears
an owl calling
from a nearby branch.
Bereft,
she sends
one keening
wolf-howl
of love and longing
into the midnight hills,
from the depths of her
Wild Woman heart
and waits,
it feels like forever,
to hear
an answer.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
written in collaboration with Kerry O'Connor at Skylover :
a poet extraordinairre I am proud to call my friend



9 comments:

  1. I am still in awe of this wonderful collaboration, Sherry. I have so admired your "Wild Woman" poetry, and am thrilled that you let me walk a little way along the same path with you.

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  2. Fantastic work, Sherry and Kerry.

    Pamela

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  3. It was pure pleasure, Kerry and the way you wove the stanzas is wicked good. I LOVE the photo of you as a little one, looking at the sea!!!!!

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  4. Lovely collaboration. It has the ring of modern day myth!

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  5. I do not have to tell you that this touched me deeply ... in part due to your loss of Pup ... in pat due to my love of wolf. I understand, I really do. I also know that you can only endure it alone. Hugs, friend.

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  6. How wonderful this combined work is, Sherry, flowing seamlessly from one verse to the other...just brilliantly done! You and Kerry write with a shared spirit and sense of truth that binds the verses of your separate journeys into a chohesive whole. Love it...:)

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  7. Wow! How it weaves into one whole is so amazing. It fits and more so it is so enjoyable. Souls have met!

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  8. This is wonderful, as are all your Wild Woman pieces. I so hope you plan to gather them into a book and get them published. And when you do, I'll plead for an autographed copy. ;-)

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I so appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
Thank you so much. I will be over to see you soon!