The child priestess questions the night
Moon am I
not
for the light in my veins
chills cold as Atlantic swell
carrying ice floes
to dance around the Pole.
Light swells
cold as moon
and round and round
dancing
(not I with awkward frozen feet)
where the Pole stands
gallows-stark
beneath this winter sky.
Am I Moon then
in pale reflection
murmuring to stars
where they dance on still water?
Pigeon shuffles on her dark branch
and in the rattling of her feathers
I hear soothing mother-words
that say
go home and sleep
as children do.
Jane Dougherty Writes 
Reblogged this on About the Jez of It and commented:
Lovely poetry
Thanks for the reblog!
Most welcome
🙂
Beautiful Poem 🙂
Thank you 🙂
Gorgeous, Jane.
Thank you!
So beautiful. I love that mother-voice. So loving.
Mothers ought to be 🙂
Mesmerizingly lovely.
Thank you xx
So poignantly mysterious…like children and the night and the moon. (K)
I’m getting engrossed in the bronze age past that has left some records, before patriarchy became the only social structure. If only…
I think patriarchy is wearing itself out. But what replaces it remains to be seen.
I hope it’s not going to be one of the pick n’ mix type stunts we’ve been fed for the last year or so.
That would be exhausting.
I love the last stanza 💜
Thank you!