WOMEN'S VOICES RISE FROM THE MULCH OF OUR MOTHER TREES
Crone Speak is a manifesto for all women. We enter 2024 as a global community with a destiny to fulfill. The only thing stopping us from being the unprecedented leaders we were born to be in this time is the commitment and discipline of articulation.
As in all the feminine arts, our mastery in articulation, in voicing truth, will come from just doing it. When women hone and craft the stories that they harbor, the geology of the future erupts into being.
It is not enough for me to be unquestionably committed to writing what I am here to write. I have an obligation to invite you, seduce you if I must, into doing the same.
I know that if you take the step into writing, just writing, every day, that your form and your clarity will emerge. I trust that completely.
As death swirls around us like the great teacher she is, the Dark Mother of Mulch and Compost and Fecund Refuse, Alchemical Dirt, we are called by the chorus of Persephone from beneath our feet, to sing our songs into being more and more and more. Let our voices extravasate into a mighty roar, because the Mother Trees are dying and our keening is our strength.
Women’s Voices Rise from the Mulch of Our Mother Trees
The Mother Trees are fearlessly dying in the rainforests of the Northwest.
Their labyrinthian roots are standing out
Like the veins on a woman who has stood too long
Watching the world devour itself.
From the steamy mulch of these deaths
Rise the voices of women.
The lead singers are the crones,
Shrill and deep, loud and humming,
Tenor, soprano, baritone.
The Crones are the conductors of the new songs.
Women know the stories of how things are glued together,
Like the sheaves of a great composition.
We are the infrastructure of existence;
The guts of the global family.
And each one of us now
Has an assignment
Because the Mother Trees are
Fearlessly dying in the rainforests of the Northwest.
If our Mother Trees can die fearlessly, so can we live and write.
So can we say what our lineages have held secret,
And blast apart the structures of the past.
Sister crones, women of all ages, use your words!
They are the de-colonizers of our souls.
Let no man silence us.
Let no tradition seal our lips.
Let no frown from another stop the song that is ours.
Be unstoppable my sisters, and resilience will wash your heart with laughter.