AniBea Poetry: Red Mother Mountain

"Red Mother Mountain," A Poem by Anshin B Kelly

AniBea Poetry: Red Mother Mountain

The first time She,

The Great Mother revealed it

Was time, 

Time to start new, to

Let go of all things;

All things new, and

All things old,

The Madonna Statue in the

Churchyard had begun weeping.

Everyone said it was a

Miracle,

They knelt and prayed,

Repented and thanked

God for New Life, New Beginnings,

New Chances …

And then, after a month

Or two, one tongue wagged,

And then another;

"It must have been the rain,

Trapped inside the statue," 

They said, "Why hope, why love?

It is safer not to hold onto such things,

You'll just be disappointed."

The second time She,

The Great Mother revealed it

Was time to start new, to let

Go, to trust in change,

Mana fell from the Heavens,

Like golden snow. 

It fell continuously in

Great clouds and landed,

Gathering on the Great Trees

That surrounded our town.

And the people came out praising

And gathering armfuls into cloth sacks.

They praised God for New Hope,

For New Life, for Nourishment.

Not two months later, the

Complaining began, "Why must we toil so?

Why does God rain down nourishment

Only for a day? Don't we deserve to 

Have this treatment always? 

Why work when one can just feed? 

Why have faith in an Almighty who

Expects us to be accountable?

If God can perform such Miracles

Why must we work for our food?

God is useless," they concluded,

"God is just a trick of mind, 

A coincidence…perhaps, the

Wind blew this special grain from

Fields farther North… perhaps…

We were just lucky."

The third time She,

The Great Mother revealed

It was time to start new,

To let go of the pleasures

We'd grown accustomed to -

To hear the call deep within;

That this time Our Souls

Would not take no for 

An answer;

Blood began seeping, from

A great cliff.

And the people came from

Far and near;

To see the impossible -

And some wrangled the

Courage to touch the

Dark Red Blood. 

To smell it, to disprove it,

But it could not be denied;

And the blood ran, and

Ran, 

"It will stop in a few days," the

Old men muttered in the taverns

While glugging their beer.

But it was not so…

Soon the women found tinges of

The Dark Red

Staining their washing;

"It's seeping into the river!" 

They wailed, 

They grabbed their husband's

Wrists and cried out,

"Make it stop!"

Their husbands began

To gather 'round the 

Center Square and discussed

In loud voices, what is 

To be done.

"God is punishing us," they said,

"There is no other explanation. 

"Blood, flowing from rock? 

It is impossible, and

Yet the townspeople are stained

With it - what can we do? Avert

Our eyes? Stop looking at each other

Stop speaking to one another? 

Only the butcher can escape 

Our plight; his apron white but stained

Red; he lives at Death's threshold " they said.

Soon the ruts in the streets were

Pooling with Dark Red and the

Townspeople gathered to try and

Bail out their homes.

But no one visited the Cliff,

No one dared admit how scared they felt,

No one dared visit the Red Mother Mountain

For solutions, no one dared ask for help.

The Butcher had a wife who also

Wore an apron stained blood red.

Every morning before the first rays of

Sun, hit the town's edge

She made her journey in secret,

To Red Mother Mountain;

She washed her hands in the blood;

A midwife also was she

And the hands that had delivered 

The townspeople, and her mentor,

And Grandmother before her -

Six generations in total;

A butcher's wife - hands

That slew, and in the same instant,

Nourished,

Hands that knew, the cleansing

Power of a Mother's Sacrifice.

"They might ignore Mother's Tears

And abuse their healing power,

They might take Her Body for granted,

And take what they don't have to work for;

But there comes a time, try as they might,

They can't ignore -

The Soul must be born anew, their Soul," 

She said:

"They are convinced a mountain can not bleed,

And so they ignore the signs pointing to their

Origin, to bedrock.

The passage in a woman that lets the

Baby through, looks only 

Wide enough for Lovemaking

And yet, all of humankind have

Passed through Her this way -

She IS The Mountain,

And The Mountain 

Gave birth - hemorrhaging

When Core Origins within,

Are taken for granted, 

And ignored."

The Butcher's Wife stood unafraid,

As she prayed, and washed her 

Feet in the Mother Mountain Blood;

She'd seen many women

Hemorrhage after birth, 

Their graves wide open,

And she knew what it meant

To be a woman in need of

Protection -

Not from Mother Death,

But man-made Death 

By another name:

Neglect.

Neglect, hiding, secrets…

Offer your hands and feet,

Mama what can I do?

I'm here Mama, I know,

I can face the impossible 

Fact, that lifeblood pulses within

Bedrock -

Suddenly, the side of the 

Cliff where lifeblood hemorrhaged

Opened,

And the space within beckoned

The Butcher's Wife and

Without hesitation she

Walked in -

No one ever saw her again

And the townspeople mourned,

But the hemorrhaging ceased,

And many came to see the

Place it all began -

Had the Red Mother Mountain

Taken her? They didn't know…

But the woman who had seen

Their mothers through -

That critical place between

Life and Death - the Midwife

Who had stayed by their sides

Who could touch Death -

And in the same instant

Nourish, generations…

They vowed never to forget.