Sacred Poetry

By the Time a Woman Ripens

By the time a woman ripens
She’s climbed many a mountain
To get over the hill
And into the promised land.

She’s also fallen off, been thrown off,
Flown off a few jagged cliffs in her time

And has come to know
That it is in the broken bones
And the breaking of her heart
That she has learned to free-fall
Into the satin blackness of Eternity,
Radiant deep peace, the promised land.

You see, if a woman is lucky,
By the time she ripens,
She has joined Inanna, gone down
And been hung out to dry, to fry, to drown.

Some scars you can see with the naked eye.
Others, like the underground belly wounds
You can only sense the fragrance of lotus flowers
Beginning to bloom
In an emerald oasis beyond time.

You see, by the time a woman ripens she is really this:
A skydancer made of dazzling starlight,
A sacred flame made of golden threads,
A wave in the ocean of God
Lapping the shoreline with You.

~ Ahria Wolf