prey to a "God"
and I hear you say "he"
I see the prophets
painted as a white man.
I hear you say you put your trust in "him"
Many of you are kind and good, full of love.
But I myself
I am going to worship my Mother.
My Mother Earth
and she is old and graggy
and grey
and brown.
She does wears dresses
of green or white
she loves red and purple polka dots
She is wrapped in mysterious flowing blue.
But for me
her body is mostly brown.
Beautiful
run my fingers through your soil
brown.
Beautiful I can lay my back upon you
and you will never disappear brown.
Beautiful
rich offering giving
ready, steady, brown.
And like any child I am of her.
I am her again, young and new and fleeting
and different
She loves everything about me
my skin and hair, my bones and blood.
She has no shame of my body
she loves my breasts
and folds
she would have me hide nothing
if I wish
she cares not what mistakes I make
at times she spoils me
she knows I will die but she gives everything she can
She is a busy mother, so she does not spoil me too much, she has many to feed.
and at times she has little to give
but still holds me close.
I know that I owe my life to the Sun
and his energy
I know he pays the energy bill every day
works to build and warm the house
But he comes and goes.
I know without his sperm
I would not be here
his gift of life.
And I will bow down in gratitude before him.
I dance with the glorious love he shines on me.
But my bones are made from my Mother Earth
She raised me
hugs me everyday
she makes do with whatever is given
never complains, does her best
feeds me, cloths me, loves me.
To be truthful
I bristle when you call your God a he
When I see a video of a white man trusted with a gun
but a black man ordered to the ground
The question is why do we trust the white man over the brown?
Why do you put all your trust in the wealthy white mans God?
made in his image?
his understanding that God is not his flesh, blood, breath, shit and bones?
Every mother knows poop comes with new life,
It was the old rich white man who imagined God as only clean and bright, strong and perfect,
someone else emptied his chamber pot.
Old momma know that if you empty the camber pot in the garden the tree you plant there later will make the most fruit.
Do you want a god that is far from you? floats away from you?
that is not in you all the time?
that is better than you?
I know we all long for his love, but like an older woman talking to her daughter now, I remind you, love yourself first, then love him. Love your Earth Body first. He may come and go, there maybe others, but you will always have yourself. What good are you without loving your body first? Put your own air mask on then help others.
And if I ripe off my shirt
stand before you
a woman topless
what would you think?
Would you look at me strangely?
tell me that is not respectful but you would let a man do it?
Then you have swallowed
the lie of the white father.
If you see the tan lines on my body
and do not see that they are the first chains we accept
that my breast must be covered while a mans are not
than you do not see the first oppression
the oppression from which all the rest are based
That a woman's body can be owned,
possessed by others than the who's spirit it houses.
The first lie that the land of our Mother Earth can be hoarded.
You have bought the shame they have spent centuries passing on to our bodies
the lie that it is ok to cover us upin order to protect us from his lust
that it is ok to build a fence and keep others from drinking from the stream.
that is is ok to own while others are homeless.
I am brave,
free and wild
I am not scared of the suns lust
or love
nor a mans
I will let the whole of my skin shine.
But I am weak,
I am a civilized pet
breed to submit, to live by the lie that I and others can own
our Mother
the riches of our Father.
I see the house I live in and believe I own it
and the land under it,
I have bought the lie too.
We might as well try to give the oceans and clouds away
to our white male God too.
oh but you already have in your preyers,
when we prey to "Him" our great father.
when we are told to trust him and his son, his servants more than any of his other children.
I maybe weak, but I will not prey to the lie.
Maybe today will be the day
that we all throw off our cloths, and chains
and the lie that a woman's body should be covered
that a white man be trusted more than any other
and a brown mother body be in labor without thanks.
Maybe today is the day we tell our white light father we are grateful
but we remember we must also always thank our brown mother, our earth body soul.
Maybe today is the day that see how brown and beautifully and earthy we are
The day we throw out the blue plastic antiperspirant tube, the bug poison and weed killer
The day we eat straight from the garden
invite anyone hungry into our homes
wrap anyone crying into our arms
lay our bodies down in front of all risk to show our brothers and sisters
the same love our parents showed us.
Trusting,
knowing
that we will go back
always
to the arms of our Big Brown Mother.
