Monday, June 04, 2007
a trancer's prayer for her knees
Dearest Goddess of dancing all night,
of transformative, psychedelic, powerful, life changing events,
Goddess of long walks up the mountain and gorgeous strong legs,
have mercy upon me.
I may not have always held my body as I should have,
may have stood with knees locked in a defiant stance
in a stony challenge to the world to go ahead and try to knock me down if you can,
(and you can't)
but now I am ready to yield
bend at the knees
if you would please
grant me respite from the mounting pain
in these knees
which have carried me thus far
and for which I am ever so grateful.
You see, Goddess, I still need these knees
for many more vigorous mountain hikes and
reverent trance dancing for hours and sometimes days on end.
Sweet loving Goddess of gardens and scratch cooked meals,
Goddess of the sacred hearth that must be tended,
I beg of you offer me relief
from the aches and cramps of my feet, calves and crackling joints
that need to kneel in the dirt with veggies and flowers and
hover low over morning fires heating my children's home and
stand long hours in the kitchen
perpetually and lovingly
preparing the days' meals.
I will sit when I can, stretch and
wear supportive shoes on the hard tile floors,
will soak my feet and wrap my knees in hot castor oil healing packs,
but I beg for your compassion;
let me carry out my duties, work and play
Diana, Goddess of the hunt and the hounds,
each day I invoke you as I exercise my pack of rescued beasts,
hike devotedly on my two legs so they may each stretch their four.
Please bestow upon me limber joints and far-reaching endurance,
relaxed smooth muscle tissue and
the ability to lope capably alongside my lupine companions.
Grandmother Goddess, I tell you,
someday I may need to rock more babies on my hips
and walk them soothingly long into the night and
Goddess of revolution and rock and roll,
I at times still find myself in tough black boots
(with supportive insoles, of course)
thrashing my way through the pit or
marching the streets of DC in protest of the abounding madness.
Holy, holy Goddess,
sometimes I seek only to kneel,
bow my head to the sacred ground,
give thanks and pray.
May I do so without the sharp stab of ligaments
stretching beyond their once liberal elasticity.
Goddesses, of you all I implore:
I need a thousand more miles
upright on these tired soles,
I need a million more stomps of bare feet into earth,
I need ease and yogic grace in my deep squats
as I hunker near the ground face to face
holding hands with women nearing birth and
listening to children share profound insights,
I need to feed the hungry on strong legs,
stand unwaveringly against injustice in the world
and leap in celebration when we should triumph.
I need to
jump for joy
for many, many long years to come.
For this boon, Goddess, I offer myself unto you.
I shall serve relentlessly
(though frankly you know I'll do it whether I ache or not)
but I would feel so honored to do so
in that blessed state of grace-
free from chronic pain.