Colorful Scars

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Mother Tree – Colorful Scars by Lexanne Leonard

 

Mother Tree

There is wisdom in her amaranthine years,
Mother Tree with knotted limbs upturned
to warmth of sun and blessed rain,
all that is needed, a reach to stars in grace.
Her first lesson.

She stands her ground atop a hill,
no other place to be, guardian to any, mother to all.
She provides without clause for we are all connected –
animal, tree, and me.
Lesson number two.

She is champion, her arms for climbers who will dare,
even when they crack her and tumble.
Scars of strength and boundless compassion.
A third lesson from Mother Tree.

Oh, she is far from smooth and frail.
Rough with weather, firm in her being.
In wind and snow she never falters. She bends.
Wisdom worn proudly around her belly,
striations of her years built one upon another.
No need to hide this cicatrix,
her detailed tale of wealth.
In gratitude I see.

She has an altar ascribed by me,
a shallow where an arm once connected.
An open wound where water now runs
like tears during summer warmth
and dried by winter’s chill.
Just enough room for spider’s blessed weave
and my oblation stone, my simple gift to palm unknown.
I’ve learned to relinquish in her joy.

Mother Tree’s scars do not defeat,
they color the universe with compassion.
May her wisdom fill my every day.
May her generous spirit walk with me.
May her chivalrous path inspire.
May her tenacity lead me in my time.
And may I stay the course of gratitude
all along my journey.

 

Author’s Note:

In today’s climate, through the pain of telling our stories and being dismissed, my mentor Shiloh Sophia created a workshop called Claiming Our Colorful Scars. As with all the work we do in Intentional Creativity, we become the cause in the matter moving us forward and healing ourselves along the way. We take our stories and re-imagine them into a new way. This is so with this class. There is no charge and you can access at the above link. It is a powerful way to reclaim your voice and move forward.

This piece will eventually become affirmation cards. The back will have the poem handwritten on it, then cut into cards. Then I will write a word that I want to remember as a reframing of my story through this process. I can also use it as a puzzle to piece back together to heal even more scars!

 

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Circles

Mother Tree

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Circle One
Mother Tree whose roots wind below
next to stream and under playground,
tall with branches lifting sky,
rough bark protection against all that is harmful.
And her eye, where branch once connected,
now sit stones placed by me,
an eye that sees and from which drips
water of her being, tears of joy,
of pain, of love as needed.

In all seasons standing tall and strong
bending in wind, there for me always,
soft padded ground as in great redwood forests,
a playground for innocence.

I am welcomed, at home, at peace, I am enough.

Circle Two
I want to learn to speak the language of Mother Tree,
the one who stands strong and bold,
yet allows season storms to pass.
She bears the burden but doesn’t break.
She abides to show me movement round her,
but she, she listens. She shades.
She grows deep roots to hold to Earth.
She feeds the world with herself without noise,
without moving, without having, without collecting,
just being. She speaks the language of ancestors past
and those who will come, without saying a word,
just being who she is and how she has been created.

Her language has no words, I listen and learn from her.
I learn from her just being – her bark, her leaves,
her roots, her eye, her branches,
her compost made from what falls away to nourish new growth.
She is stalwart, yet flexible. She comes from the past and
will live in the future, not as this one tree,
but growing new from her wisdom.

Circle 3
Mother Tree in me knows that I am whole.
I come from the past and I will be eternal.
Her branches grow through my trunk and into my arms,
in all of me…me, and I touch the sky.
Her roots go down my legs and through my feet
and I am grounded not just to topsoil,
but deep below and far and wide my roots will grow.

I, too, am strong, no need to prove.
I can be rough to protect, yet soft inside to cradle.
I can see with compassion and wait,
listen and be there for the innocents
who come to me, including myself.
I can welcome and give rest.
I can be the maypole dance of celebration.
This is Mother Tree inside of me.

This I notice…
I am connected to all and all to me.
I am perfect and have no need to prove myself.
What I am and what I do, is all that I need.

 

Author’s Note:
I am taking a wonderful course this Solstice hosted by Amber Kuileimailani Bonnici called Woman Un-Leashed. It is a free on-line retreat featuring some of the most wonderful goddesses to bless this earth. The above poem came from work with Mary Reynolds Thompson who took us through three circles of self.

What a joy to be able to move through this season in a deeply creative way that speaks to my soul.

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Mother Tree

Mother tree sings, not in Indigo Girls’ descant,
but Her hymn beneath rich loam reaches out
through roots, searches for fungi,
a give and take of carbon and nitrogen,
back and forth, fuels a network to ease one
another’s survival, feeds a diverse union so some
will be left standing when others cease.
A complex union of tree and decay, fertile
earth and music, this is Her root command.

He commanded us to love, not in law above,
commandments to bow down to,
but twined roots holding one another so close
breath unites us into Being, so close
we cannot be parted. And yet, if we
release, push through deep moist earth,
ken to others, share inspiration, reveal
our true selves, we become One.
Love is the root command.