Where does the GODDESS live?

The Goddess form of a woman unfolds in the most intimate of moments, and not on a scheduled prompting. There are moments a woman, similar to cats,  gives in and relaxes into safe, and sacred space. In those precious moments she is making clear the Goddess within her. So often it has had to be hidden. In today's climate it can be in the open and not perceived.   The Goddess is, comes from and is like Kabbalah over the centuries appearing, and disappearing according to the clarity, or the blindness of people, their sharpness,  or the murkiness of their knowledge of light,  their study of  Creator's works, and the discipline of spirit in the work of becoming a deeper soul.©  Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
1.18.13

PETRA G.

One day I walked up and upon an Indian woman from behind unwrapping her sari. She didn't hear me so I froze where I was and beheld something I probably shouldn't have seen, but transfixed before the movements she made I couldn't feel myself turning away, or retracing my steps.

She was in her  safe place dreaming about what is important to her. Humming to herself the sari flowed with the melancholy of the refrain she hummed. The graceful nature of her hands combing her hair made the scene around her slow down. The small spring near by seemed excited about the prospect of her bathing. In a rural setting outside of Bombay where I lived the villages were ancient with time honored traditions unfamiliar to me. One I knew had to be in place was the danger I was in should she turn, scream and accuse me of something I'd not done, but may have thought about. It was frightening when I thought about it, but I couldn't think about it because there was something here I'd never known, and needed to know about.

It came from my dreams. It lingered around every Indian woman I'd seen in my lifetime, and now it was unwrapping before me not more than a few feet away from where I stood. "What should I do?" I asked myself.  With no answer coming forth I stood still, and became void of thought to become the land we stood upon, and I listened to the sound of my voice talking to the water spirits. Her voice talking to the water spirits did not recognize mine and looked up to see me there. The water spirits beckoned her. Nodding in my direction she followed their gaze, turned and saw me.

She didn't say a word, or appear afraid. She just stood as calmly as I matching her breath with the rhythm of my own breath I could barely hear myself. How did she, or how could she comprehend the cadence of my body from there?  I didn't know, but I did know she was looking at me very closely. Her breasts must have been as soft as they were round and full. I wondered. She looked up at me which meant she was looking at my body parts too.

"American man."

I nodded.

"Why are you here?"

I wanted to say, "For you." but that might lead to an uncomfortable conversation that would arouse suspicions. I didn't know what to say except the truth.

"I was just walking through the village. I apologize for intruding your privacy."

"What is your name?" she asked.

I couldn't contain the excitement I felt listening to her voice. Her voice seemed to belong to her, and it seemed to come from everything around her. Even the water spirits understood her, but I was a suspect in their presence, and they wanted to understand how I came to stand on the land.

"Why are you standing there?" she asked me. I had to answer, but how?


© Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories