Passionfruitcowgirl

~ ∞ ~

She is sent down by sorrow, betrayal, abandonent, shame, grief or magic.
She enters a cave
– either one made of earth, or one made of suffering –
and so arrives in the womb of the world,
the cauldron of fierce love
that creates, re-makes, weaves and unweaves us.

She is shorn of that which allowed her to succeed
in a system that is, at essence, synthetic.

She is tested, humbled, unpicked and ruined
to be re-assembled into something quite different…
something far graver
than the goddess she had hoped for.

Something that does not glitter.

In her undoing, she takes the true medicine of the earthling rite,
and becomes
a woman fit for birthing and for dying
a woman fit for creation and for the unraveling inherent
a woman who has true courage, and not just ambition
a woman who loves, in full wisdom of the grief inherent
a woman who weaves, not for her own survival,
but to make beauty within sorrow
to know grace.

She becomes a woman, tempered.

One fit to carry a newborn child, a hurting man and her own dying mother, as well.

She becomes a woman who has earned the beauty of the deep well of her undoing,
and can stand, re-made, unadorned, perhaps unnoticed and even scorned, carrying the chalice of grief, made golden.