Kundalini Splendor

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Friday, March 26, 2010

"Secrets" (poem by Peggy Wrenn 


by Peggy Wrenn

From one woman’s fire to the next,
secrets were carried like hot coals
since time immemorial, passing from
one woman, one community, one tribe
to another, her hearth to her daughter’s
hearth and her daughter’s after that.

What happened to these secrets
when no daughter was born to
carry them, contained and safe
in her well-worn, holy vessel?
The lineage was broken, the coals,
still hot, had nowhere safe to nestle.

Young boys got hold of hot coals
and played with them like toys
creating a new kind of fire.
Ignorant of the sacred mysteries, they
burned forests, dug coal, invented
smokestacks, cars, trucks, guns, bombs.

Beneath mossy ground in rural southern France
6000 years ago, a goddess buried the sacred vessel
with its original fire held sacrosanct for centuries.
Now she’s back to unbury the sacred fires,
we can feel red-hot embers rekindling, women
everywhere feel this inside and remember.

(Image from internet source)

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