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Conjuring Storms

de Ekaterina Shelehova

I am my mother's savage daughter
The one who runs barefoot
Cursing sharp stones
I am my mother's savage daughter
I will not cut my hair
I will not lower my voice

My mother's child is a savage
She looks for her omens in the colors of stones
In the faces of cats
In the falling of feathers
In the dancing of fire
And the curve of old bones

I am my mother's savage daughter
The one who runs barefoot
Cursing sharp stones
I am my mother's savage daughter
I will not cut my hair
I will not lower my voice

My mother's child dances in darkness
She sings heathen songs
By the light of the Moon
And watches the stars
And renames the planets
And dreams she can reach them
With a song and a broom

I am my mother's savage daughter
The one who runs barefoot
Cursing sharp stones
I am my mother's savage daughter
I will not cut my hair
I will not lower my voice

We are all brought forth out of darkness
Into this world
Through blood and through pain
And deep in our bones
The old songs are waking
So sing them with voices of thunder and rain

We are our mother's savage daughters
The ones who run barefoot
Cursing sharp stones
We are our mother's savage daughters
We will not cut our hair
We will not lower our voice

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