Hanging on my studio walls are three collages dear to my heart. The triptych represents the three aspects of the Great Goddess, representing the three traditional phases of womanhood – maiden, mother, crone. It’s a fine thing for an artist to create something that expresses exactly how they feel. These kind of pieces don’t have to say everything about the subject, or all that the artist feels. They just have to ring true to the truth behind the idea, the poem or art work that somehow opens the gate to Rumi’s field…
Out beyond idea of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about. ~Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī
The amazing archetype of a powerful divine feminine has its home deep in the collective unconscious of humanity as is shown in hundreds of incredibly ancient artifacts dating back through thousands and thousands of years.
The three aspects of the Goddess also signify the seasons of spring, summer and winter. At the time in which I created them, I had no knowledge of the fabulous fourth phase, corresponding to autumn, that a woman enters after menopause. It is an amazing period of freedom, courage and creativity – the penultimate blessing nature bestows as a reward for the work of living and becoming wiser. Women haven’t yet settled on a name for this phrase – some call it Queen. It’s still barely being written about or talked about, but more and more she’s showing up in movies and TV – the wise older woman, not yet ancient, vital to her core. She is why I wrote my novel Magdalene A.D. – to exemplify the abilities and possibilities of this autumnal stage.
I’ve written poems to two of these collages. I created this set a long time ago, when I was still in the mother phase. Their corresponding poems carry the same deep sense of satisfaction for me that the art work does. Now that I’m becoming Crone, I’ll be able to write a poem to complete my triptych. Meanwhile, Grace at d’Verse Poet’s Pub has announced OpenLinkNight and because summer is fast upon us, I give you:
Pepper poppy, poinsettia,
pear, peapod, pig,
bone, broccoli, berry,
fly, field, fig.
Mother, fill my baskets –
belly, breast, egg.
Hollow out the snake’s front tooth,
bronze the fly an iridescent hue;
pleach vines into green shade pools,
laurel leaf to hero’s wreath.
Tumble me in August pastures
lush as swollen sex, fecund with mulch
of brood mare, sow, brindle cow.
Pleasure me with sun-fermented fruit
a-buzz with flies and dancing bees,
let the corners of Your crescent smile
drip peach, apricot, apple, pear
and from Your limbs sweat honey light
through summer’s fig-sweet air.