Sisters of the Midnight Fire
Leaping flames of crackling fire calm us and our desires.
We are drawn to this circle of warmth as we are drawn to each other.
Strong, confident women arriving at this peaceful place by varying paths.
We are mothers, daughters, sisters, lovers, priestesses, wise women, queens.
As different as we are the same we share oneness with our mother spirit.
We come together having experienced pain and joy in all its forms:
first love’s magic,
lovers who have broken our trust,
and lovers who have sustained us.
We have crossed barriers as painful as these burning embers
always moving forward to arrive at this cherished place together.
Here we are united in our refusal to let others define us.
Not willing to deny our true selves for men or their gods.
Outside of this sheltered place we are often actors playing parts we know well.
But here, in this protected place we can simply BE.
The mysteries that we each carry within us never meant to be revealed
can sometimes be glimpsed by a wise eye as the night unfolds.
Supporting each other; delicately holding each other’s souls safe within our circle.
Freeing ourselves for brief moments
from the confines of the earth,
the needs of our families and
the positions of our birth.
Women: nurturing by nature, made strong and self-reliant by necessity.
We are strengthened by one another’s simple presence.
Sisters in awe of the beauty of the rising moon and the abundance of the stars.
Stars that appear close enough to touch but are as far out of our reach
as the perfect kernel of knowledge we seek within ourselves.
These cherished friends, these sisters in arms,
have held me close and staved off harm.
They have picked me up from the bottomless flood of my pain
and carried me when I could not walk alone.
They lift me up now from the depths of my torment
and encourage my spirit to soar again like the smoke rising from the fire.
They remind me always of the joy that lies within our fragile human connection.
We will not lay down our desires to make the world
more comfortable with our old age.
For we alone own our spirit and our sensuality.
And our sex is not a gift to be bestowed upon others
but something of value to ourselves
to be explored, enjoyed and reveled in.
In these rare harmonious moments,
regardless of the image the outside world sees,
we are young and our spirits are free.
The universe remains ours to explore and,
often awed by our shared talents and abilities,
we continue to seek new truths.
Here in this protected place,
away from the judgmental eyes of the parents of our childhood,
the children of our loins,
the siblings of our birth,
the representatives of our communities,
and the gods of our men,
we find freedom among others who share our courage, strength and joy.
The moon rises slowly over the mountain top
at first appearing as a flat orange glow
and then rising to become a bright globe in the sky.
I find a calm truth in the simple beauty of one of nature’s repeated journeys;
a recognition that my essence will carry on in a similar fashion.
As the smoke from the crackling fire soars freely toward the stars
I pray I will never lose these cherished friends,
these sisters in arms,
these saviors of my soul.
July 4, 2011
(This poem was inspired by the talented, strong and fun-loving women in my meetup group!)