hen I was counting down the weeks to my 50th birthday last year, part of me was excited and part of me uncertain. It felt like a major turning point. Ahem – It is a major turning point.
Several years ago just after my 46th birthday I wrote a poem about the day. It was a sad birthday for some reason. Now in hindsight I can see it was the call of the crone. She was calling to me to wake up, let go, prepare for the transition, get strong.
“…reminded of the preciousness
of this many year labour
with shared and salty tears as lubricator
of the crone emerging
preparation of an elders birthing.”