I am a child, just 2 1/2, Mourning the sudden disappearance of my mother, Spending all my time with my Grandmother, Who is teaching me, she says, "to read", And, suddenly, In a blinding flash, I know and understand that the marks On the page Are words and thoughts, And I die to Isolation and Ignorance In the delight Of the written word, And am reborn, A Scholar.
I am a young girl, just 11, Climbing a rope For illicit entry Into my brother's tree house, And, suddenly, My thighs, squeezing, climbing, Contract In the exquisite rhythms Of sexual pleasure, And I die in the spasms Of first orgasm, And am reborn, A Nymph. I am a teenager, just 17, And I fumble with The zipper Of my jeans, And the buttons of my blouse, As I eagerly seek the skin Of My grasping, awkward boyfriend, And tremble under His frantic thighs, As I die To the innocence of the virgin, And am reborn, A Woman.
I am a young woman, just 24, And I search For a Professional Calling, Seeking zealous justice and righteous change, And as I Struggle With books, And papers, and tests, And work in the field, I die To naïve idealism, And am reborn, A Lawyer. I am a married woman, Sinking, In despair, Under waves of guilt and responsibility, Trying everything to open doors, But finding only Walls That reach the Sky, And I suddenly reach that point Of life, Or death, And , as I struggle toward detachment and acceptance, I die to the myths Of wifely sacrifice And am reborn, A Survivor, Responsible for Myself Alone.
I am a Celt, Proud of my Irish Catholic ethnicity, Supporting the struggles Of my Republican brethren to Free Ireland From the occupation of the British Army, But, As a woman, An alien to our church, Afraid, aloof, Heartsore at the degradations of patriarchal faith, When a random search On the Internet Reveals Wicca, and the Goddess, and Magick To my hungry soul, And I die To spiritual alienation from Deity, And am reborn, As Goddess, As Priestess, As Witch.