My
Turn
by Karen
Runkles Throener
Samhain
2003, Vol 3-1
MatriFocus,
a Cross-Quarterly Web Magazine for Goddess Women Near & Far
Restoration
Silenced
by the noose,
Herded into hate-filled public squares to die in flames
That the rest would know fear.
We knew and changed, those left alive,
But
Some pieces of bone, they found, survived the burning.
Hammered by fist and word
Into postures of obedience, we became the ruled
And lived to please our rulers,
Our sovereignty became a secret shame,
But
Some pieces of bone, they found, survived the burning.
They caged us with their fear
We barred the door with ours, forgot the chants
Or hid them in a fairy tale,
Hid Hecate behind a smile,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning.
Carefully, our spirits called
By those who dare to dream aloud,
We gather to sing the truth,
Refuse those who exhort a sweeter song,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning.
Kneeling, we sift the ashes,
Speaking, we call the others, call ourselves
To recover our divinity, our necessary heart.
What we rebuild is well begun
And will bear flesh, already having bones,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning,
Some pieces of bone will always survive the burning.
Herded into hate-filled public squares to die in flames
That the rest would know fear.
We knew and changed, those left alive,
But
Some pieces of bone, they found, survived the burning.
Hammered by fist and word
Into postures of obedience, we became the ruled
And lived to please our rulers,
Our sovereignty became a secret shame,
But
Some pieces of bone, they found, survived the burning.
They caged us with their fear
We barred the door with ours, forgot the chants
Or hid them in a fairy tale,
Hid Hecate behind a smile,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning.
Carefully, our spirits called
By those who dare to dream aloud,
We gather to sing the truth,
Refuse those who exhort a sweeter song,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning.
Kneeling, we sift the ashes,
Speaking, we call the others, call ourselves
To recover our divinity, our necessary heart.
What we rebuild is well begun
And will bear flesh, already having bones,
For
Some pieces of bone, we found, survived the burning,
Some pieces of bone will always survive the burning.