On the banks of a creek
under a canopy of trees
the mother-tree stood
wrapped in a labyrinth.
Ancient land -
still home to the Spirit
of the people of
the great Cherokee Nation.
We circled a crackling fire,
sang songs, drummed,
told our stories,
read our poems,
and shared our sacred objects.
Women…chosen sisters
bonding again
under the light of a full moon.
Sabra is a wonderful poet, she keeps a blog, Later, Miss Slater, go read! Follow her on Twitter and Facebook.
I like the female-centeredness of this poem, especially the phrases “mother-tree” and “chosen sisters”.
Thank you, Emily. So glad you read and left a comment. There was a tree in the center of the labyrinth and it was circled by trees. Best to you!
me too!
Thank you, Julie. So glad you liked the poem and let us know. Are you a poet?
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This is wonderful as always! There is a Willow tree on the bank of a creek near my house, and in the spring and summer I often go there to sit under it and meditate. I thought of this tree from the first line of the poem. As well, you brought together the connection of the Spirit of nature and the Spirit of sisterhood. Just beautiful!
You took me right back to that beautiful place which holds special memories in my soul too . . . .
Yvonne, thank you so much for your beautiful comment. You are lucky to have a Willow to meditate under. I think of the Willow as female, so she fits perfectly with the labyrinth and sisterhood. Later…
Yes, Kathy, it is important to honor our special memories and we’ve shared many special times. May we have years and years of memory making times in our future. Hugs.