Who is the Holy Woman standing at the edge of society, hands over her heart, eyes cast down, taking up space with her presence, yet invisible to people walking by. Tattered, faded robes draped by dreaded graying hair, bundled in strength, hiding-nurturing secret medicines for humankind.
Oh Great Holy One, you who feel the pain of community with each inhale breath, how many times have you journeyed to earth? How many scars paint your body – souvenirs of your many transits – you who seeks beauty in discarded people and places? Your heart aches but it does not bleed.
Illuminated One, who hovers over the earthen lands, divinely connected to the greater mysteries of the One. Worldly translator of roseal wisdom from the Divine, receiving in modification to prevent your heart from burning out like a shooting star by the magnificence of the Word and devoted to sharing it across the land in common language of food, dance, poetry, and song.
Mystical One, primordial wisdom incarnated in feminine form. Loving, joyful, seductively attracting humankind with sashaying hips, golden breasts full of milk to nourish, accented steps with brass bells mined from the Motherland; cenote eyes drawing dear ones in; intoxicating voice with your humming tonal vibration.
Strange One who rests on the fiery desert floor of burning sand during the high-noon sun, basking in the pure oasis of waters at the base of the opulent palm tree garden; re-awakening at night to soar with your blackened gold wings, observing household transgressions thought to be hidden by the darken skies void of the moon.
Beloved One, the rounded womb sanctuary who is present at creation when the embryo transforms into life and shepherds its safe passage into world, should it decide to stay; and who too is present at death to direct the spirit into the worlds of its belief, while receiving the body back into the earth so it may compost to nourish crops and consumed, cannibalized, never forgotten through the metabolic connection.
Strong One, who resists and devours man’s many attempts to concretize you back into the earth, forcing forgetting among your daughter through martyrs of death, submission of their sovereign bodies by rape and execution, and internalization of patriarchy that swindles mothers and fathers into selling their blood to street markets in exchange for cheap trinkets masked as wealth.
Devotional One, untouchable to mainstream society – cast aside for acts that happened to you in the shadowed allies of world, yet whose prayers are amplified by your innocence of heart and unwavering belief, an example that God’s loving grace illuminates from our own inner temples without judgement.
Oh Holy One, Wanderer, Chosen Woman, Soul of strength and purpose who knows your worth more than the enlightened ones dressed in fine clothes and who foolishly seek to regulate the freedoms of world and judge Divine law.
Incarnation of Love, sweetness dropping from your soiled garments perfuming the space we share with a floral breeze, Oh how I wish I could be like thee; humble, strong, courageous, devotional, and thoughtful.
Holy Woman Mystic, please open my eyes so I can see you when you are at the city’s edge. Open my womb so I can recreate you to multiply your efforts in bringing balance back to the world. Open my heart so I can feel your essence and believe again in love.
a.d.orduna 03/20/23
Alisa's thoughts on Beloved Communities 