The False North of Patriarchy
Turning Away from the Setting Sun, Toward the Songs of Dawn
Fathers in the oppressive direction—
What if their North is your South?
What if what gives patriarchy life
is a death sentence for you?
How do you find your own North
if not by returning
to your heart
and body?
How many massacres must unfold
before we say—
NO! NO! NO!
This is NOT my North Star!
How many cancers must we endure
before we declare—
NO! NO! NO!
This endless holding of space
for patriarchal violence,
abuse,
and extraction
is NOT my North.
How many depressive episodes—
our children’s
and our own—
must we live through
before we cry—
NO! NO! NO!
This is not my North Star vision,
but the dimming light
of a Setting Sun.
We cannot rise
in the shadow
of the Setting Sun.
We must root
into something deeper,
descend into the darkness
of our own soul soil—
this Mother Earth—
and awaken
to the songs of dawn—
the Rising Sun
of collective liberation.
We must be willing
to descend
fully
into our darkness,
honor the sacred path
of loneliness,
face the grief
of all the losses we’ve known,
and betray the path
of patriarchy—
this ruthless road
of dominance
and numbness
that poisons
both heart
and soil.
We must go down
into the poisoned soil,
see our own betrayal
of our knowing,
so we may finally know
our center—
the place from which
we decide
what is North
and what is South.
Root into this center—
the birthplace
of time
and space.
For how long, mothers,
will you keep cleaning up
the gruesome mess
of patriarchy?
For how long
will you collude,
believing your collusion
ensures your children’s safety?
Can’t you see
their destiny
in this slaughterhouse?
How long
will our mothers
aspire to remain maidens
until their deaths—
as their children
are sacrificed
at the altar
of greed
and power?
Where are our elders?
When will you reckon
with the truth—
that everything we habitually do
sustains patriarchy’s North Star?
Your life force,
your children’s life force—
everyone
and everything,
a sacrifice
on the altar
of this cult
of death
and dominance.
STOP. STOP. STOP.
PAUSE. PAUSE. PAUSE.
WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP.
Find your breath—
the one hijacked
by the oppressive machine
of productivity.
For how long
will we follow
this setting-sun vision—
this path
of death
and destruction?
A path that steals
our breath,
not in beauty,
but in agony
and terror,
in the violated bodies
of all birthing mothers.
How many silences
will we swallow
as we march in step
with this death cult
of patriarchy?
When will we stop
inflicting
the wound of abandonment
upon our children?
Come into your body, mothers!
Connect with your breath.
Feel your beating heart
and your life-giving womb.
Hear their prayers.
Respond to them.
Create and offer.
We cannot leave our children
to be devoured
by the death loving patriarchal ghouls.
