Presenting the poetry, books, and photographs of Nancy Wood, 1936-2013
From Hollering Sun, 1972, by Nancy Wood
Earth woman with hands
That shape the bread of time.
Earth woman with
Pumpkin-seed earrings and
Bracelets of wild plum.
Your house is made of summer.
Your children are the crops
Of all good seasons
Growing strong
In the house of earth woman
Who weaves the thread of life.
From Dancing Moons, 1995, by Nancy Wood
The woman-heart spirit was released by the Creator
a long time ago in order to nurture children,
animals and plants, trees and rocks, and also
men, who resisted the softening of their wild nature.
The woman-heart spirit roamed the deserts and the mountains
looking for ways to create awareness,
the food the earth needed for survival,
and the recognition of beauty in the land.
The woman-heart spirit was wild, untamed
like the river and the wind
who taught her knowledge of a certain kind,
different from the knowledge of men or children.
The woman-heart spirit became the guardian
of language and music and the stories
needed by birds and animals and people, as
the world changed and imagination dried up.
The woman-heart spirit became the keeper of compassion,
strong yet invisible, the connection between
all living things. The woman-heart spirit
is nothing more than love, overlooked when the world began.
The hearts of mountains
and the hearts of women
Are both the same. They beat to
an old rhythm, an old song.
Mountains and women
are made from the sinew of the rock.
Mountains and women
are home to the spirits of the earth.
Mountains and women
are created with beauty all around.
Mountains and women
embrace the mystery of life.
Mountains give patience to women.
Women give fullness to mountains.
Celebrate each mountain, each woman.
Sing songs to mountains and to women.
Dance for them in your dreams.
The spirit of mountains and of women
Will give courage to our children
Long after we are gone.
Every day I bathe myself in light
and write my name in stars across the sky.
Every day I am the Fire of Life, burning
with the intensity of the Sun. The Wind cannot
blow away such passion, nor can Rain drown
the ash of love, knowing it will burn again.
Every day I bathe myself in light and dance
to the music that rivers make on their
way to the sea. The Earth hears my prayers
and gives my body a familiar form,
feminine in nature, strong and surviving.
Every day I write my name
in stars across the Universe: I am love.
The power of my flame
rises with the fury of my dreams.
Women, you must learn to be warriors
Now when times are dark and our men
Are afraid to tell us what is in their hearts.
There is so much trouble in our land
That it is up to you to decide
Which direction the wind must blow.
Women, you are our tree of life
Just as you were a long time ago
When a man said: carry my seed.
If you go forth from this darkness,
Telling our story of courage and survival,
Then our tree will grow strong with your words.
Women, do not worry about tomorrow.
Even when daylight is long in coming,
The sun remembers its place in the sky.
Take this blue shawl of knowledge and
Wrap it around your daughters, telling them
That women must not be afraid to be warriors.