Poetry

All posts tagged Poetry

I Stand Shameless

Published October 30, 2025 by tindertender

How do I know
Who I am
When all I have been taught
Is who to be
According to rules
That belong to a past
That believed in the domination
Of nature
As a path to power.

How do I know
Who to be
When the judgment that gets thrown
Arises from a fear so old
That no one even knows
Why it’s wrong
To shine
Or show pleasure

As a woman
Why would I stay
Cooped up in a cage
Of shoulds and oughts
When this body
Is crafted from moonlight
And fire
And the deeper river
Of ancient knowing
Guides my every felt sense
Of what it means
To be a woman

So I stand
Shameless bright
My heart open wide
Wild crafted pleasure
And mountainous might

I define myself
As I set myself free
And I laugh out loud
As I birth a new me,
For all women.

~ By Clare Dubois, Founder of TreeSisters 🌳

🌳 http://www.TreeSisters.org/give 🌳

Image thank you to our artist partner Tamara Phillips ART

Beowulf

Published June 11, 2024 by tindertender

A Mew Moon ~ Rumi

Published July 31, 2022 by tindertender

A new moon teaches gradualness and deliberation and how one gives birth to oneself slowly. Patience with small details makes perfect a large work, like the universe.

What nine months of attention does for an embryo
forty early mornings will do for your gradually growing wholeness.

Art: Terry Campbell

I Have Been

Published February 13, 2022 by tindertender

I have been her
I have been she
I have been them
And now I’m me.

I have been out
And I’ve been in
I’ve felt defeat
I’ve known the win.

I have held joy
and shouldered grief
I’ve had my share
Of changed beliefs.

I have been hurt
and I’ve been high
I heard the answers
to what and to why.

I know the loss
and I know the gain
I know that we
all bleed the same.

I have been her
I have been she
I have been them
And now I’m me.

By Donna Ashworth Words

Art by @hannahkarlzon

Zitkála-Šá, aka Gertrude Simmons Bonnin

Published February 23, 2021 by tindertender

145 years ago, on Tuesday, February 22, 1876, noted Native-American Yankton Dakota author, editor, musician, composer, teacher, & political activist Zitkála-Šá “Red Bird” (1876-1938), was born on the Yankton Reservation in Dakota Territory.

Zitkála-Šá, also known by her Christian-missionary given name Gertrude Simmons Bonnin, was the first Native-American-Indian woman to compose an opera, “The Sun Dance,” which was co-written with noted opera composer William Frederick Hanson (1887-1969) of Brigham Young University who transcribed the traditional Sioux melodies that she played on her violin to create the first musical piece written with traditional Indian themes.

Zitkála-Šá was taken from her family to White’s Manual Labor Institute in Wabash, Indiana where she was forced to pray like a Quaker & cut her hair; however, she was happy about being taught to read, write, & play the violin — an education that she soon put to good use. She attended Earlham College on a Scholarship, but a few weeks before graduation she had to leave the school on account of illness. Her prose & poetry & her musical compositions impressed many white people who were amazed that an Indian girl so lately removed from “savagery” could be such an accomplished artist.

The 1898 photograph by influential American photographer Gertrude Käsebier (1852–1934) depicts Zitkála-Šá at around the age of 22

Why Worry?

Published May 26, 2020 by tindertender

You have seen your own strength.

You have seen your own beauty.

You have seen your golden wings.

Of anything less, why do you worry?

You are in truth the soul, of the soul, of the soul.

~ Rumi

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@gabebarletta

Medicine

Published May 26, 2020 by tindertender

I am an atom; you are like the countenance of the Sun for me.

I am a patient of Love, you are like medicine for me.

Without wings, without feathers, I fly about looking for you.

I have become a rose petal and you are like the wind for me.

Take me for a ride.

~ Rumi

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@j_wozy

We Are We, God In Man

Published May 25, 2020 by tindertender

But what thing dost thou now,

Looking Godward, to cry,

“I am I, thou art thou,

I am low, thou art high?”

I am thou, whom thou seekest to find him.

Find thou but thyself, thou art I.

O my sons, O too dutiful

Towards Gods not of me,

Was not I enough beautiful?

Was it hard to be free?

For behold, I am with you and in you and of you;

Look forth now, and see.

Hertha ~ by Algernon C. Swinburne

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@bradlloyd

“God is at the center of man.”

~ Eckhardt

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@coopery

Poetry Post 5-13-2020

Published May 13, 2020 by tindertender

But what thing dost thou now,
Looking Godward, to cry,
I am I, thou art thou,
I am low, thou art high?
I am thou, whom thou seekest to find him.
Find thou but thyself, thou art I.
O my sons, O too dutiful
Towards Gods not of me,
Was not I enough beautiful?
Was it hard to be free?
For behold, I am with you and in you and
of you; look forth now, and see.”

~ Hertha, by Algernon C. Swinburne

Photo: https://unsplash.com/photos/ABrC7X4_gLY