I wrote this poem a while back, about my life and my journey into Witchcraft and Paganism which coincided with the beginnings of my transition from Mother to Crone …a similar age to when my own mother turned to a different spiritual path. 

Transitions  …my journey from Spring into Autumn

A child of the Moon is born, to two loving parents.
She grows, nurtured by the strength of their love;
safe, snug, secure and happy.
All is well with her world.
She is the Maiden;
unfolding, blossoming, learning, yearning,
hungry for knowledge.
Seeking, wondering, always questioning.
Entranced by the esoteric, the mysterious,
the doctrines shunned by her parents,
beliefs derided or feared,
the source of future contention and turmoil.
Something beckons…

She sees in her world many things, many people.
Her grandparents, loving and wise,
teach her more of their ways than they realise;
their love of the Earth,
to plant, to harvest, to give back again,
to keep the cycle turning,
to see the beauty of the sunrise and sunset.
Their own quiet, unspoken spirituality,
always hidden, kept very private.
She sees her father, the strong, quiet, scientific atheist,
and her mother, the emotional, spiritual believer in God.
Differences aside, their love is strong.
Still, something beckons…

As she grows, thoughts and ideas form.
She quietly ponders, wonders, in her solitude.
Why is she so different?
She does not fit into the world of her parents, her brother, or peers.
She feels somehow distant, alienated, alone.
Her mother, newly Croned, has found new faith in Jehovah;
passionately, fervently fresh and fanatical,
dangerous, derisive, divisive.
The Maiden wants no part of it.
The Crone burns the Maiden’s secret treasures
out of fear for her daughter’s soul.
No respect, trust destroyed, childhood ended.
Yet still, something beckons…

The Maiden is now a Mother,
scarred by the past, but matured, complacent.
Her parents still together, father in quiet resignation
with the wife, and the life he now knows.
Their love is still strong.
The new Mother still seeking, yearning, learning,
hungry for knowledge, finds solace in crystals and herbal lore
while teaching her children love, respect and tolerance.
A new freedom of expression is slowly emerging;
a desire to heal the heart, the people and the Earth,
to plant, to harvest, to give back again,
to keep the cycle turning.
And still, something beckons…

Cronehood fast approaches and still the Mother seeks;
forever learning, hungry for knowledge of that which beckons.
Fears of history repeating itself as she realises her goal.
Has she become like her own mother, or has she learned?
She treads softly, quietly,
makes no waves, only ripples under the Moonlight.
She has learned to stay silent, to hide what she now sees.
It is not yet time to reveal new insights.
Fear of rejection, ridicule haunts her dreams.
Slowly confidence builds, to tell her atheist husband
gently, softly, carefully reassuring.
This is not a repeat of history but a lesson learned from it.
Their love is strong.

Cronehood, a heartbeat away,
Her time; not of endings but of new beginnings.
A time to blossom in the Sunlight with insight of that which beckons;
the Goddess, to complement the God, the seen and unseen, dualities in balance.
Yet she has the wisdom to stay silent in the Moonlight as needed.
The realisation that what is, always has been.
To see the many different paths as aspects of the One,
There is no one true path, but many.
A time of forgiveness, understanding and tolerance,
and to nurture those qualities within herself and others.
This is her time, to share with her husband and children
the wisdom of the Goddess; the Maiden, Mother and Crone.
Their love is strong.

JT 11/07/04

Copyright © 2004 Jenny Taylor (Jenwytch)

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