Frozen Tundra


The past is a frozen tundra
Immovable and unchangeable

There is only now
This present moment
To live in the knowledge
I have gained

I allow the past
To drift away
On the ocean of tears
I have cried over marks
I have missed
And cherished dreams
I have failed to
To manifest

Today I make peace
With the Present
And arise from the frigid waters
Frozen fingers aching to weave
A new beginning
From all the frayed ends.

©️ 2018 All Rights Reserved



A black cat mewls piteously
upon my gravestone
the stench of decay
fills my nostrils
unearthly roots encircle my legs
the alchemy of hell
turns my soul into
acrid rain
soil blackens my lips
as i begin this descent
into the underworld
where fire consumes my shame

Underground II

Risen and fallen
a lone candle burns
upon my tombstone
a feral cat scratches at my grave
roses wither on the vine
as the goddess of the underworld
invokes my name
pain is my destiny
into the bowels of oblivion
i accept my fate

© 2017 All Rights Reserved

Cheers to Open Link Night at dVerse and our host, BodhiRose (Gayle). My poems are inspired by the Underground theme hosted by PaulScribbles, which conjures up my dark nights of the soul.



Into this hallowed chamber,
harshness enters,
bruising my knees,
weighing down my outstretched arms,
despair descends,
as icicles in frozen air,
angels witness,
etched into panels of stained glass,
taunting voices whisper,
mocking my faith,
drowning out the chorus of prayers.

The face of your image looms,
burned into my naked flesh,
i arise! in defiance of,
this sham salvation,
the angels shiver,
trembling against fragile glass,
shattering the panes,
into bright pieces
of sharpened resolve.

© 2016 All Rights Reserved ~

Cheers and L’chaim to dVerse and Bjorn. Our prompt is to work the shadows of light and dark.

Drumbeat of Sorrow

In loving memory of Cecil the magnificent lion and Harambe, the rare and majestic silverback gorilla, whose lives were ended by humans.


mankind, I shall see you again
standing at the entrance to the
Rainbow Bridge
waiting for direction
feet traversing stepping stones
on a new horizon
where Spirit will awaken
the drumbeat of sorrow
at what you have wrought
tears shall overflow your eyes
as you behold our magnificence
your soul will tremble
with the cadence of pain
as you gaze upon the Medicine Wheel
you have desecrated
and the feather of the Great Spirit
you have so carelessly trampled ~
here, within the Sacred Hoop
we are your teachers
we are your healers
we are the stewards of your fate

© Mother Wintermoon 2016

Cheers to Open Link Night at dVerse with bard Bjorn.


your golden heart to me
your bruised roots
Let me whisper
your soul
into bloom

your violet hues to me
Let me taste
your crimson pain
With every piercing thorn
on your stem
I bleed life
into your wilted soul

© 2016 all rights reserved

Quadrille #16 for dVerse, hosted by Victoria, who prompts us to open to our inner muse using the word “open” in our 44 words.

Shechina: I Am She Who Has Always Existed

I am the ruler of the underworld
I am a heavenly body
I have been a muse since time immemorial
Countless sonnets were inspired by my reign
I go by the names of
Snow, Hunger, Wolf, Flower,
Harvest, Hunter, Blue and Crow
I am the light within the shadows
I am the endings before new beginnings
I rouse your passions
I bring solace to your soul
I am there in your darkest hour
I rule over transitions and balance
I am life and death
I am the embodiment of reap and sow

I am the rhythm of the earth bridging all seasons
Wolves speak to me in ancient tongues
Sea captains hunger for my guidence
Oceans rise and fall under my sway
Tides succumb to my pull
I am the power of love and madness
I am the magic and I am the spell
I bear witness to your sins and secrets
I am the keeper of your regrets and hopes

Seek my wisdom and I will give you…
The gift of transformation
Call upon me and I will teach you…
The eternal cycle of harvesting and letting go
I am reincarnation
I am feast days and festivals
I am She who has always existed
I am more powerful than the sun
I am Lady Luna
I am the Shechina
I am Maiden, Mother, Crone

© 2016 – All Rights Reserved
Unifying the Shechina, (the Divine Feminine in Judaism) with the feminine archetypes of Maiden, Mother, Crone based on Greek mythology. In Jewish mysticism, the Shechina is associated with the moon and the monthly sanctification of the new moon, called Kiddush Levana in Hebrew. The Jewish sage, Rabbi Yochanan said, “One who blesses the new moon every month is one who greets the Shechina and brings Her down to shine upon us.” (Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 42a).

In Judaism the Shechina/Shekhinah is the Divine Earth Mother and our redemption from the underworld – meaning the pain and suffering of the human condition and dark nights of the soul.

The moon is associated with the Sacred Feminine and feminine energy in many cultures. 

 My bit of creative ~luna~cy in honor of dVerse and Grace.

Equal Measure

Dust to ashes, ashes to dust
Pleasure and pain, innocence and lust
Strength in weakness, dying in birth
Dirt feeds life, decay feeds dirt
Sunrise to sunset, ebb follows flow,
Around and around, joy or woe?
Something begins, another ends
Seasons recycling, wheel of life spins
Corporal body, human spirit
Grief and joy, we all inherit
Pleasure balances pain, pain kills pleasure,
We are all cogs, without equal measure
Love and loneliness, plenty and dearth
Wheel spins cruelly, calculating worth
Embrace or abandonment, care or abuse
Spin one takes all, win or lose
Germinating and decomposing, rotating world
Withering or thriving, life unfurls
Round we go, torment or leisure,
Tethered to this mortal coil, without equal measure

© Mother Wintermoon 2016



Slice open the facade
And truth spills out,
Immortalizing moments,
Frozen in time
Photos flashing through our consciousness,
Speaking a thousand words,
Telling stories of lives,
Wrtten in indelible ink
Everything changes,
In the blink of an eye,
In a millisecond,
Entire worlds can begin or end
We hear the cry of silenced voices,
Faces of strangers transformed into loved ones,
We collectively mourn
A watershed of tears flooding our souls,
Turning tragedy into a river of change,
Turning shame into a torrent of pride,
Turning hatred into all the colors of the rainbow
Hate will not win,
Not while we are alive,
Not while we die,
Not while the pulse of humanity,
Throbs in our veins
We will not forget,
We are the change.

© Mother Wintermoon 2016

Soft, Brown Hare

Matt of, This Mortal Flesh posted a open poetry challenge open to all readers to accept. The challenge is to write a poem based on any quote.

My quote:
“I am a stone being excavated by the slow passage of water;
I am wood charred by a fire.”
~Lauren Oliver~
Woman in the Rain

the tides of time
batter against the stoney facade
of her eroding dreams,
by the edge of the road
a soft, brown hare
slickens the asphalt,
fallen prey
to truck wheels,
and gasoline fumes~
on deserted crossings 

amidst smoldering ashes,
her prayers rise up
on wisps of woodsmoke,
cleansing rain descends,
washing away,
tears and blood

© Mother Wintermoon ~