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"The Crows Blessing"
By Mother Mara
​
I have seen you in silence.
I have watched you when the world turned its back,
when your shoulders folded from carrying too much
and your eyes searched the sky for someone to come.
I come.
I come because you called without knowing.
Not with words, but with your ache.
Your sorrow hums in a language the wind remembers—
and I heard it.
I bring no demands.
Only my wings, black as grief, soft as night,
and a presence that says:
**You are not alone.**
Not in this. Not ever.
I come to sit with your shadow.
To remind you: it’s not a weakness to need.
It’s not a flaw to fall.
And it is not your destiny to stay broken.
When you cannot find your own strength,
I will hold it for you, perched above—
watching, waiting, witnessing.
Until your wings remember how to open again.
Until your fire returns.
Until your heart believes it is safe to be soft.
This is my blessing:
I will not leave.
Not until you know the truth of who you are.
Not until you rise.
"For The Days He Didn't Notice"
by Mother Mara
I tried today. I put effort into the little things
lashes, light, love, and hope.
I reached out in silence, waiting for warmth.
But all I got was the hollow echo of indifference.
That hurts. And I’m allowed to feel that.
But his silence does not define my worth.
His failure to see me doesn’t make me invisible.
It makes him blind.
I am not unlovable,I am overflowing.
I am not too much,I am *abundantly* enough.
And someday, the love I give so easily
will find its way back to me, gentle and whole.
Until then, I will remember:
I am radiant. I am worthy. I am mine.
"Annabel Me"
by Mother Mara
It was many and many a year too soon,
In a world that never saw me,
That I learned what it meant to love and ache,
To drown without a sea.
I was just a child, a knowing child,
And the grief already knew me.
I loved with a love not meant for then,
Too deep for small hands to hold,
A love not born, but taken and shaped
From shadows dark and cold.
And the world said, “That’s not love, not yet,”
But my soul had already been sold.
They say the angels weep for those
Whose innocence is torn,
But angels didn’t come for me
The night my heart was worn.
No wind blew out of heaven’s gate,
Just silence sharp as thorn.
They took from me a piece too pure,
And buried it away,
Told me I was “too much, too soon,”
But left me there to stay.
And I, too young to know my worth,
Believed I’d loved that way.
But hear this now, oh world that failed,
My story isn’t done.
You do not end a song like mine
Just because the pain has won.
I am not your tragedy ,
I’m not what they have spun.
For now I love a quieter way,
Without burning through my skin,
I tend to every shattered part
With soft hands tucked within.
And the soul they tried to hollow out
Is learning how to begin.
The moon may bring me memories,
But not ones that drag me low.
The stars may whisper what I’ve lost ,
But not what I let go.
And though the sea still calls my name,
I’ve learned to say “Not so.”
So if I lie down in the dark of night,
I lie by the side of me,
My darling, my warrior, my life rebuilt
From wreckage and debris.
Not in a tomb, but in my truth,
By the shore of who I’ll be.