My Circle of Crones
When young and unformed
Female energy felt foreign.
Dating, mating, giggles
None of it drew me
I felt apart and unsure,
A piece of driftwood
Tossing in the tides
Facing struggles alone.
Middle ages confused.
Wife, mother volunteer...
Still an ocean divided me
My language was foreign
Thoughtful ideas unwelcome
Desperate concerns ignored
Isolated and confused
Outside looking in.
Then came my crone years.
Suddenly I was surrounded by
Crones full of wisdom
Women reaching for magic
Elders standing arms open
Embracing me with love
A bone deep connection
My circle of crones.
Not ugly, beautiful souls
Not evil, deeply loving
Not frowning, radiantly smiling
Not dark, emanating light
Not judging, warmly supporting
No drama, joyful spirits
Women with grace and wisdom
My circle of crones.
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