Description

This is a poem written by my previously-Christian-self as she was grieving deeply the lack of Mother God and Goddess in her church, and the realization that there was complete permeation of patriarchy, harmful to women, throughout the church I once loved and deeply trusted.

9.28.23
© Elizabeth Langston, 2024

Five Famines of the Feminine 

I once walked the streets 
That Jesus did sweep

He was calling his disciples;
Calling for his sheep 

I followed where they walked,
And I heard what they did speak:

They said, “There’s twelve apostles”,
I said, “No, there are thirteen……”

First famine of the Feminine:
No Mary Magdalene.

—-

I went to church on Sunday,
I took the Sacrament.

I sat with all my babies, 
The Bible in my hand.

I opened to the pages 
Seeking God to lead, 

But all I found were verses
Subjugating me:

“Let woman keep silent in church,
she is not permitted to speak” 

Good old first Corinthians,
chapter fourteen.

Next famine of the feminine:
Unchecked Patriarchy. 

——

They told me to believe 
That Adam did make Eve,

when all humans on earth 
Woman did conceive…

I thought they could not lie,
Until the Voice Inside 
Told me that their story 
Was unjust gendercide. 

Third famine of the feminine:
Denying women their power of creation. 

——

They told me I had choices, 
They told me I was free. 

They said my final judgement 
Was tween’ God and Me. 

But then they have inserted 
Men and authority 

In place of my own conscience 
And my Sovereignty. 

Fourth famine of the feminine: 
Line of Authority. 

——

They say there is a Mother
In Heaven; that she’s true.

But when we speak about her,
They hush us at the pew.

They say she is too sacred;
To pure to speak her name—

I say that I am starving
In this drought of Feminine.  

——

This daughter wants her Mother 
Included in the prayer 

This daughter wants her Mother 
Represented fair. 

I don’t want to have to piece Her 
Like a puzzled game of Clue!

I want to Speak about her 
Like men their Father do. 

The problem with this famine 
of the Feminine Divine 
Is that women have to leave
parts of themselves behind. 

How can they be expressed 
As only women can,
When the only God that’s spoken 
Is one that is a Man?

This buries parts of women, 
it buries them alive. 
Don’t ask us to abandon
The feminine inside. 

How can I, as a woman,
How can I choose to stay 
When as I am here staying, 
I give parts of me away?

© Elizabeth Langston, 2024
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