Universal Mother
I never understood until you opened
your arms to cradle me and I saw the
light held within the cracks of your
lactating breasts, mother to all creatures
born from wombs where rivers flow
and roots grow deeper from the secrets
held in a woman's heart.
You hold space for the sun to become
the moon and the night to become day.
You give shelter to our anger when it
comes to feast and sanctuary when
grief takes us to our knees.
No matter our weakness you give us
space to bleed and live our messy lives
and embrace us as the babes we are.
(After the painting The Love Embrace of the
Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego
and Senor Xoltl by Frida Kahlo 1949.)
Weathering the Storm
Off the coast of Maine where the wild
wind whips across the sound, it sends
the seagulls spinning sideways and
mariners dancing with death.
Taking off my yellow raincoat I let go of
my fear and push forward into the frenzy
forgetting how fierce and frightening these
tempests of summer can be.
Looking at the lighthouse beacon that now
lists aimlessly at the top of a steep rock, I
slip into the deep cold waters where the sea
will teach me how to weather the storm.
The Cage
It is the hour when the sky is filled
with stars and dreams creep through
the open window. It is beyond the
thinning veil where I am transported
back in time across the ocean to a
land where cedar flutes emit notes of
sweet release and peace reigns over
the earth. Here women are leaders
of the clans, their voices strong and
guiding, their hearts kind. They hold
the history of all women and vow not
to let another fall and will fight to
keep themselves free. Continuing to
travel through time my dreams show
me what the future may hold. I see
the cage coming for women on wings
of darkness as it did before matriarchs
ruled and brought unity. I know by
the blood of my ancestors that I must
prepare to use my voice and all other
means I can if I am to survive this
evil that threatens us with shackles
and will strip us of our rights. In my
dreams it has been shown to me that
women are living in the most dangerous
of times.
A Blue I Cannot Name
The sky is a blue I cannot name.
Clouds chase each other through
the branches, the lively chatter of
red squirrels and screeches of blue
jays give adjectives to the day. As
the trees drop their leaves like articles
of clothing across the floor, I turn
away from the beckoning and let
the unknown have me.
The Callieach
her hair a burning bush of
darkness and light
eyebrows the feathers of a crow
eyes dark storms and oceans
ears a chamber of echoes
lips pinched with secrets
teeth a ladder of pearls
breasts an endangered species
her belly a cauldron of the moon
arms of swords
fingers of candles and glass
legs of anchors
feet that move quiet as a cat
waist a spider's hourglass
her mind a ball of yarn unravelling
into chains of lightning
voice of thunder and the skin
of a dragon
breath the season of fire
her legend a galaxy of stars
Karen A VandenBos was born on a warm July morn in Kalamazoo, MI. She has a PhD in Holistic Health where a course in shamanism taught her to travel between two worlds She can be found unleashing her imagination in two online writing groups. A Best of the Net nominee, her writing has been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Blue Heron Review, The Rye Whiskey Review, One Art: a journal of poetry, Anti-Heroin Chic, The Ekphrastic Review, Southern Arizona Press, MacQueen's Quinterly, Moss Piglet, Panoply, Peninsula Poets and others.
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