The Muse gave me a Circle – Poem

She gave me pens

she told me that when I could allow

the mountain in my head

to travel down my arm and

come out the end of my pen

then she would be back

(You can read it below, or listen to me read it on youtube)

THE DAY THE MUSE GAVE ME A CIRCLE

She gave me pens

she told me that when I could allow

the mountain in my head

to travel down my arm and

come out the end of my pen

then she would be back

She gave me paint

she told me when I was willing

to let the blue night sky that lives

in my pelvic bowl come out as stars

from the end of my brush

then she would be back

She gave me a drum

she told me when I play

if I can hear the river

in the Ancestor’s message

that sets all beings free

then she would be back

She gave me a lump of clay

she told me when the fox jumps

out of the mold into form

and begins to tell a story

about loss, love and choice

then she would be back

She gave me fabric and red thread

she told me that when my colorful quilt

with a story of hope woven in

can warm up the cold world

while also warming me

then she would be back

She gave me a cosmic bowl

she told me when it was too full

I should empty it of pain, and

leave more space between scars,

then there would be enough light, and

then she would be back

She gave me a glittering jewel

she told me that when I had set it in place

the white raven would fly out of the center

and speak prophecies about the black dove,

the migration of oaks and the turning of soil

then our time together would be near

She gave me a golden blade

she told me only fire women

know how to work it,

she said it can cut apart or shore up

all depending on how I hold it

then she would have my back

She gave me a wild dance

she told me when I had danced

the wildflowers of earth alive

only then would a pegasus fly

from the neck of Medusa

on a journey to the Muse

Hercules had no tasks like mine

my task was not to kill or harm

not to tame or subdue

or bury eternal bravery under a rock

I had to make life, not take it away

making is much harder than taking

When I had finished with all her tasks

I rode the pegasus and we flew

I held onto his mane, hoping for the best

My dress became a garment of clouds

I found tea waiting for me

I snuggled up in a bird’s nest to rest

The Muse gave me a Circle

She told me that all I really needed

was a circle that graces, that

invites, welcomes, embraces

She said if I understood that,

then she would always have my back

I carried the precious Circle in my heart

I did not know regeneration then,

that the tending of one circle

can become a multitude of circles

Circles are like that,

giving birth to more circles

I mark the day,

that the Muse gave me a Circle

It seems I was always waiting

for her to come back, but then

I finally knew I was already

always connected in her circle

I thought she was coming

from the outside, crashing through

the back door of my worried mind

drinking whiskey, leaving muddy footprints

Now I know she was rushing forth

from inside of me with magic in her hands

I had to learn to come to her

not just wait for her to come to me

and so shall it be with poetry

in the circles around this heart’s fire

that the Muses will meet us

where we are and we will remember

Shhhh…..….listen now as the

portal shimmies down a veil

the vault releases trapped riddles

spoken from the mother tongue

of the only place

you are really from

Your true name is found

in between the stones you turn,

in the river beneath the river

It’s the name you resisted at first,

but now, the Muse insists

you surrender and find power

~ Shiloh Sophia

Red Thread Letter #812
The Day the Muse Gave Me a Circle

Dear One Sarah,

Woosh…what a journey 2020 has been so far! It’s like every day is a new rodeo. Just this morning I have gone from happy to stressed to happy to sad to WTF in a few hours. I am witnessing myself and just trying to laugh as much as I can.

I wish I could sit across from you and share a cuppa’ something good and we can just talk about ‘stuff’. Whatever comes up…letting it just come on out so it doesn’t get all jumbled up inside.

In our community of Intentional Creativity, we continue to show up at the easel and pray in paint – it is the way we process what is coming through. I will be honest, this has been a low writing and drawing cycle for me compared to usual lol. The community has needed a lot of focus. I feel a bit weary today, while at the same time inspired by my connection with our community and what I see them doing and how I see them being.

When we paint, we pray for lives that have been lost, for dear family and friends who are struggling with health and more. We pray for the end of violence against women, which has only increased in the pandemic, and for Black Lives Mattering. We pray for businesses that are struggling to keep doors open and for artists with working studios that have to close with no idea of when to re-open. And the list goes on… Creativity gives us something to DO about how we are feeling.

As I sit here today in my big ole’ empty museum, it can be challenging to keep my double chin up, lol!! I just sat in the sunshine, picked some Santa Rosa plums and ate them without rushing along to the next thing. I find myself trying to slow down more and simply ‘be’ and rest. In my summer class, Artifact, we are doing a lot of resting in between painting sessions. Nap times are important but I don’t think I have ever built them into a curriculum.

If you are feeling alone or isolated, come on over to the Red Thread Cafe and share what you are working on creatively or in your life. Someone is almost always there to witness you and lift you up. Or, if you are part of our iMusea app – share there.

Earlier this week, one of our members shared her experience which touched my heart and really summed up the beauty of this community (shared with her permission)

“I lost my gran nearly 3 months ago during this pandemic and I’ve been really struggling with that. She was the matriarch of our family, so fierce and strong and clever. I wasn’t able to see her in the hospital, I couldn’t be there to hold her hand or say any last words to her. I had to fight for me and my family to be able to go to the funeral because I’m just her grand daughter not her daughter. A few days before she died I reached out on the red thread and asked for prayers for her. Literally, within minutes all these women that had never met her or me were sending love for her and us and it just kept coming. For days. It is something I will remember as long as I live. That kindness got me through those days. Knowing there are so many good people who are willing to take time in their day for a woman they’ll never meet. That is really something. That’s what the world needs more than ever now.”

This brought me to tears as it truly speaks to what we have created together – a global community of women creatives connected along the Red Thread who support each other no matter where we live, or what we are going through and if we have never met. This is the circle.

If you could use a controversial and curious conversation with a circle of creatives, consider joining me and Jonathan for our Imprensiva Society Salon today at 4pm PT where we discuss “Will art save us from irrelevance?” This is part of our new Museum Membership, which helps us fund women in the arts and continue our Intentional Creativity legacy into the future. Membership has lots of cool features in addition to live time with us.

This poem, The Day the Muse Gave Me a Circle is dedicated to my friends, teachers and Ancestors, that have been walking with me so closely in 2020 in spirit and in form and long before now…. they are indeed my soul tending circle and I wish to acknowledge them:

For Carmen, For Denise,

For Alice, For Sue,

For Tonantzin, For Bridget, For Janet, For Maia

For Jena, For Mary, For Trish, For Elizabeth

For Jill, For Shannon, For Havi, For Amy

For Amber, For Uma, For Milagros, For Hobby

For Lauren, For Semerit, For Mona, For Lana

For Jassy, For Emily, For Sarah

For Norma Jeanne, For Stella

For Nora, For Lenore

For My Mama, For Grandma Eden

For our Grandmother’s Magical Hands

Thank you.

Bless you, each one of you, right where you are from right where I am.