and we bleed.

Women bleed.

We bleed.

And it ignites the animal instincts of the predators among us

Conditioned to roar & kill & thrash

The mighty primal who prey on the weak, on the bleeding.

And men bleed when feasted on by men

And we bleed.

Women bleed.

And it wrinkles the noses of the powerful & strong

The flex to crush the weak they fear in themselves,

They scent the blood

Hunt to destroy that weak dying sickly bleeding woman

To save her

Control her

Force her

Take her

With strength, status, & suredness

Justified with great pride

Never questioned

Until now

And we bleed.

Women bleed.

We rest, relax

For we are potent creators.

That know the power in regeneration.

The deep sustained strength in slow.

In care, compassion.

We know the time it takes for the great task to reach above & below

We know the patience of the belly swell

We know the necessity to watch the seasons cycle

& know the tides ebb & flow

And we bleed

Women bleed.

Not for man

Not as a resource

Not for any use

Not to be controlled or owned or paraded or impregnated

We bleed

Because we are nature

We are of dirt, stream, & wind.

And we bleed

The magic of creation dripping down our legs

We bleed the power rumbling forever within us

Our wombs trembling with the fires of birth of life of death ever more circling

Women born of women,

bleeding breaking birthing rising resting waiting…winking.

Coyest tigress goddess waiting knowing resting watching.

And we bleed

Women bleed

Again and again we bleed.

In the face of the oppressor

Her power spills from her womb gently reminding him

Returning her

To her magic. To love, nurture, care

To cry, wail, and tear

To swell like the moon

Pregnant & full

And die like the moon

Waning waning thin in her last days

Until she dissappers…

Some see to nothing

Most know she to the infinite universe

And we bleed

Women bleed

While girls are ripped

And boys are torn

And wives taken

And mother’s scorned

And we bleed

Women bleed

Tears falling from her womb

Red tears of grief stream from her awakened centre

She mourns our sistres, our sons, our daughters,

Red tears pour forth from the wise patient womb,

tears for our earth stream calm & steady

Every month as the moon dies in the sky we mourn

And shed, and rest, and cry.

And we bleed.

Women bleed.

And every month, women recover,

& regenerate their womb.

To stand up from her resting place

& prowl the earth

Tiger in heart & eye

Kings in every sense of their bodies

Caudronous wombs waiting for the spells to be cast

dancing, singing, weeping

Springs of energy, of beauty.

Wondrous grace

In the likeness of the night

Deep vast infinite

In the likeness of the night sky a lit with shooting stars

Or the cosmos a mirror of she

Reflecting the infinite power & potential

Of her body, heart & spirit

Mirroring her vastness, her wild mystery

And she bleeds

Women bleed

To remember this power

Resting.

Content from her throne

Watching the coal mines crumble

The men weeping as their oil catches flame

The cement jarring them into their own nature’s refuge

Oasis of the trees they have felled

And we bleed

Women bleed

Waiting as only women can wait

Patient,

Resting

watching.

Bleeding in her nest.

Potent goddess waiting for him to remember

The slightest smile sweeps her lips as she watches him remember

Receiving his returning

Eyes shining

Arms relaxed, open resting on the edges of her nest, her throne, her planet

Legs spread bleeding

As she has always done

As she always will.

And he kisses her feet,

weeping.

And we bleed.

poem by Kathryn Nelson

6 August 2021

written at Lilium Cafe, Wilson’s Creek

And We Bleed...