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The Temple of Inconsolable Mothers





This page is dedicated to whatever cannot be consoled as we mother our childen and the world. The temple is there for the times when we know no hope, see no resolution, and times we remember that such was the case. The temple awaits, with vast inner spaciousness. Here there is room and solace to hold all we suffer.


this is for those of us who weep,
whose tears hasten the blush of new blooms
for the young ones, the elders, for all our relations
for the pain that punctuates this planet we call home
for the slings and arrows that have pierced us time and again
yet will never breach our deepest reservoirs of compassion,
this is for us

this is for those of us who feel,
for whom shuttering cracked and wounded hearts is not an option
we who will not go meekly into the dark night
will neither barter our light for the sake of a transient comfort
nor cloak ourselves in intellectual posturing and mental whirligigging,
for whom sadness and joy, disheartenment and elation
join in a riotous dance of color and sound!
here are bouquets, roses red, aromatic

this is for those of us who stand steadfast
when it would be so easy and popular to cave to a lesser ideal
judgment and condemnation turn aside so many others
they shirk the divine imperative
buckle under and grasp for the quick and easy,
yet in the face of direct and unrelenting harassment by forces seen and unseen
there are those of us who elect to strengthen our trust in original knowings
recommit our search for the connate truth
and for you, these words tumble forth

those of us stumbling along the way
know that surrender is an act of uncompromising strength
that crises of faith and moments of doubt are quickly overturned
we who place the universally approved happy face on the shelf
and don the passing countenance of desolation
refusing to play the consensual game of productivity at all costs
this is for us

for you, who carry your strength within a soft and gentle bearing
who do not anoint fear as your leader
who give every day in ways large and small
who find unabashed pleasure wherever you may
be you gladsome or weeping, you are never alone
and this, sisterbrother,
is for you.

Rachel Snyder