Dear Ones,
Last night was a powerful conversation – The Black Madonna and the Red Book with Kayleen Asbo. Today in the aftermath of that conversation…my mother wrote and I painted although we did not discuss this. We both saw the light Madonna when asked to look where we were on our journey. Sometimes she is red, black and sometimes white and gold like this one. She is called: She Listens to the World and will be unveiled for the first time tomorrow at my art show in San Francisco at The Woman’s Eye Gallery – come by for wine, women and chocolate and new work. Or drop by Healdsburg for Art Walk, the gallery will be open late on Saturday with new work also!
When my mom sent this to me I just cried. Now I want to send it to you. On the full moon, on the eve of 11/11/11, I send you my bright blessings. If you didn’t get to hear the call and you want to – here you go.
Love, Light and Hope,
Shiloh Sophia
Caron McCloud’s poem:
DOOR OF MY DESTINY
The daughters invite us to seek our own
Divine Mother, dangerously advising us to receive
in prayer and meditation, whoever it is that shows up .
There at the door of my destiny waits Mary,
of whom I am instructed to require a word.
The word WORD itself is what shows up for me.
Of course. I am a poet. I ask for a specific word.
I hear my daughter ask of me:
What is the word written over your door?
I raise my eyes to the archway Mary indicates,
whereupon are written the letters YHSVH.
For me, what else could it be
but the name of her son, with his claim to my path
and his being the way and the truth and the life?
PATH OF MY DESTINY
The Divine Mother reaches out her hand
like Noah putting forth his hand to the dove,
taking her, and drawing her in unto himself in the ark.
Walk with my Son, and you walk with me, she says,
delivering me to the side of her man child.
I fall on my knees and cling to his waist.
All I wanted, I cry, was a mate to walk with me.
Someone to notice and to touch with tenderness
my renegade curls escaping the restraints of your law.
Was that so much to ask? How can you be
the promised groom who comforts the forsaken bride?
Walk this path with my broken hearted Mother,
he answers, raising me up and holding me close,
until I return, and you will be comforted.
HEART OF MY DESTINY
I walk the path of the man child with his Mother
where my daughter, giving me Jung’s options, asks:
Mama, Mama, where are you on our path?
Nigrado? Albedo? Citrinitas? Rubedo?
Oh Albedo! Albedo! Albedo! I cry.
For I have come from the deepest descent of Nigrado
I come from Rachel weeping for her children,
I come from the heart of the raped concubine dying,
her hands upon the threshold of her sleeping master.
I come from the pierced and broken heart of the Mother
seeing her naked man child nailed to a dead tree.
I come from that broken heart of her Son
looking upon the suffering of the children of Eve.
Only here are the polarities in Rubedo transcended.
Sorry, second verse of last poem should be:
Nigrado? Albedo? Citrinitas? Rubedo?
Oh Albedo! Albedo! Albedo! I cry.
Thank you Jena!
Oh, and the last line of the last poem should be:
Only here are the polarities in Rubedo transcended.
That’s what happens when I don’t let these things cool down before I serve them up. Couldn’t wait to share with my daughter how her work and that of her cohorts effects me.
Wow! This is fantastic! I am so happy I Googled “Sophia” on a search for images of Wisdom last night – which is how I so randomly found your site. I just listened to your Black Madonna and Red Book call…. The synchronicity for me is just brilliant. I signed up for your 90 days of tea… which may be just what I need! Your mom’s poem is so powerfully expressed; I was purely gripped by “the path of my destiny” when I read it earlier tonight. Reading it again now after having listened to the call, I understand “the heart.” I am so thankful I stopped by tonight! Thanks for so freely sharing your wonderful work, and thanks to your dear mother, too! ~Peace~
Thank you AngelaMarie for your kind and inspiring words. We are so glad you “randomly” found us. When things happen so synchronistically in my life, I suspect I have connected with some one who may be, you know, “one of us”. Right now, I have a date to eat a cinnamon roll and watch a DVD about the relationship between DNA and the Hebrew language, but tomorrow I am going to make a point of finding out more about a mother and a poet with a Franciscan heart.
Where to begin? The poem is so moving and the call, so powerful. This on top of all the goodness and challenge I’m still savoring from the last Black Madonna course. (My first Black Madonna shrine was a candle set atop a lace shawl that covers my copy of Jung’s Red Book.) Now my mind is ablaze with hopes of more extensive collaborations between you, Shiloh, your Mom, Kayleen Asbo and Stella Mac.
We look forward to more collaborations with you also Gloria. We feel that something very big and very exciting is up and want to be part of it. Thank you for your interest and for letting us know.
Caron, what an honor and delight! It makes me smile that you had a date with a cinnamon roll to study the relationship between DNA and the Hebrew language. There is such romance in exploring the intricacies of the bountiful cosmos we inhabit… … and to do so with a cup of tea and something sweet to savor… well it sounds like an evening of wonder and comfort to me. Dancing between Nigredo and Albedo, I find respite and with hope by falling away from myself and fathoming my role as a single creative and conscious being awakening within God’s great masterpiece as it unfolds mysteriously and exponentially around All of us… then I breathe deeper and with delightful appreciation for the experience of Life. The synchronicity here is truly wonderful. Blessings to you! Angela