CRONE TALKS

A CONVERSATION CAFE; A REFUGE FOR ELDER WISDOM SHARING

When I think of the word crone, the image that comes to mind is a wrinkled old woman with a fierce glare. Nothing on this planet escapes her withering look. Everything within range is captured by her intentional focus. After that awareness of this deep presence, the question arises; what is she trying to do? What in her silence is she trying to convey? So much is being said without saying a word.

In an effort to find out, I search for meaning in myths, secrets, symbols, and rituals for evidence of her power, wisdom, and purpose. And in some strange way, I don’t attempt to understand, I am drawn to do this through writing. In creating my own stories, I hope to catch a glimpse of her circling my poem like a red ant on a white page, to feel the beat of her heart in the rhythm of a paragraph, the pounding of her fist in an exclamation mark! I hope that she may reveal one day what I saw in my grandma’s face as a child, which caused me to ask: what is real, what is life, what is love? And what does any of this have to do with me?