I just updated my FB account to add a FB business page for my writing and workshop facilitation businesses. If this interests you, please visit:  https://www.facebook.com/MarySaracinoWriterWorkshopFacilitator and “Like” the page. 

October Snow

© 2011 Mary Saracino

The thick, wet snow 

burdens the boughs

of startled maple trees

the menacing visitor arrived

unexpectedly

bearing its unseasonably early gifts;

in the front yard

the smallest tree, once splendid in its flaming glory

blushes

unable to conceal

its naked soul

its delicate leafless limbs

no longer able to hide

its longing

for summer sun

for nesting birds

for languid days of

endless desire.

Autumnal Equinox

© 2011 Mary Saracino

Red maple leaves

sail through the crisp morning air

returning their brilliant

cargo to the waiting lap of earth

they kiss the soil

goodbye

& bear the darkness

of winter’s biding time

saying farewell to

summer’s heat &

blazing sun

equal parts

hope & death

this day, this equinox, a reminder:

all that rots

returns

renewed

MOTHEROOT Memoir Writing Workshop

I'm teaching a memoir writing workshop in Central Denver on Saturday, October 15th. Check out the attached flyer for more info.

Here's a brief overview:

You don’t have to be a celebrity to write a memoir. Everyone has a story to tell because everyone’s life is touched by poignant events and memorable experiences. The birth of your first child. The day you got married. The valuable lessons your parents taught you or the story of their lives. That trip that changed your life forever. The day you were diagnosed with cancer.

For less than the cost of a month’s worth of Starbucks lattes you can learn how to fine-tune an idea, develop your story, and craft a first draft version of a compelling memoir that showcases your personal experiences. No previous writing experience necessary.

Saturday, 10/15; 9:00 AM-1:00 PM; Central Denver   

Fee: $85; Buddy Discount: Enroll with a friend; pay only $80/person

Reserve your place by October 1st
Email: marysar1004@msn.com

Donna Henes, The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife

Donna Henes’ ground-breaking book, The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife, is now available in e-book format from Amazon.com and other places. Part mid-life training manual, part middle-age manifesto, this powerful book is a clarion call for clarity and courage as we face and transform what it means to be a middle aged woman in the world, today.

Though many of us are no longer occupying our childbearing/child-rearing role, we haven’t yet reached the level of wise elder. In that in-between realm, Henes invites us to claim our sovereignty, embrace our Queendom and assume our rightful agency.

From the very first page, The Queen of My Self rings true. Cultivated in the soil of authentic, first-hand experience, Henes writes (and speaks) with unabashed honesty. Forthright, humorous, tender and inspiriting, this book will enliven your soul and hasten your determination to be the best you can be. It will inspire you to reclaim every remnant of your soul that might have been misplaced, lost, or stolen during your journey from girlhood to womanly maturity.

Henes draws upon her more than 30 years of experience as an internationally recognized urban shaman, writer, and artist. She’s led countless celebrations, rituals, and ceremonies and she’s written numerous books and articles. In short, she’s been around the proverbial block a few times, and because she has, she possesses a wealth of embodied knowledge, which she so generously shares with us in this remarkable book. Her stories are as delightful as they are instructive. Her anecdotes are poignant and real. Her hope is boundless and her keen ability to tell it like it is, is refreshing and empowering.

She writes: “I offer my services as the advance scout.” And, any woman lingering in the shadows between self-doubt and self-reclamation should heed her offer, for she encourages each of us to become the “mature monarch, the sole sovereign” of our own life and destiny.

As the book unfolds, you’ll learn about Henes’ story and the stories of other women, throughout time and from many different societies, situations, and stations, who’ve crossed the challenging river of transformation to created rich, daring and dynamic lives. Henes intersperses folklore,

poetry, myth, practical suggestions, exercises, affirmations, celebrations, rituals,

and invocations to create a must-read handbook.

Whether you’re just entering the middle years of your life or have fully and unequivocally arrived in that grand land of opportunity, the Queen archetype is a perfect fit for the 21^st century woman.

As Henes’ notes, the Queen is “Not yet old, yet no longer young, She is a regal Queen standing in Her proper place—after the Mother and before the Crone in No Woman’s Land. She plants Her flag and claims Her space in this previously uncharted midlife territory. Still active and sexy, vital with the enthusiasm and energy of youth, the Queen is tempered with the hard-earned experience and leavening attitudes of age.”

Get ready to savor this gem of a book. Then toss out any of the outdated ideas of how you thought a middle age woman was supposed to act, feel, or live her life. Crown yourself Queen, not just for the day, but for the rest of your precious, splendid life.

For further information about Donna Henes’s work or to request a calendar of

upcoming events, a list of publications and services, and a complimentary copy

of Always In Season, contact Mama Donna at www.thequeenofmyself.com.

To order an e-book or print book version of The Queen of My Self: Stepping into Sovereignty in Midlife, visit:

Art and Words Editions (The publisher of the E-book)http://www.artandwordseditions.com/home/2010/08/27/e-book-the-queen-of-my-self/

AMAZON

http://www.amazon.com/Queen-My-Self-Sovereignty-ebook/dp/B0049P23OI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1289231512&sr=1-1

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0049P23OI (kindle)

BARNES AND NOBLE

http://search.barnesandnoblehttp://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Queen-of-My-Self/Donna-Henes/e/9780982812549/?itm=1&USRI=the+queen+of+my+self 

APPLE

Link to the book page in iBookstore (Apple's bookstore app for iPad, iPhone, and iPod). If you don’t have the app installed, it will link to the iTunes pages on Apple's site. 

US store: http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9780982812549

Great Britain store: http://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/isbn9780982812549

Queen Mama Donna Henes

Motherlines

Margaret

On the day I was born you nearly bled to death

perhaps a sign that our lives were marked for strife

but a mother’s womb is a thing of power

a proving ground for life and all its mysteries

you called me first-daughter and I shouldered

that responsibility, sometimes bearing

too many of your sorrows

always bearing mine

our lives are as entwined as our DNA

that mitochondrial ribbon of memory

tethers us to the long sighs of mothers and daughters —

Maria Fiora Petronilla Lazurri

Maria Assunta Rocchiccioli — and other

more ancient daughters, mothers,

grandmothers, great grandmothers –

whose names we do not know

strong women who loved and lost, laughed and cried

dreamed and despaired and lived — always

lived knowing that blood runs deep

and primeval bonds are never severed

whether our days are carefree or fraught with pain

something carries us forward

something that knows mothers are imperfect

and daughters are too

something that knows us each by heart

celebrates the joys and sorrows

blesses us all the way through.

Rose

Not mother by birth, but second mother by chance

your fierce spirit a reminder

that a woman strong is a mighty beauty —

though some would not agree

when first you married my father

my twenty-something eyes had seen too much

yet much more lay ahead

at your table I have feasted on roasted chicken

with potatoes, polenta simmering in red sauce,

savory meatballs and homemade fried dough

listening to your stories about your sisters,

heeding your reminder to always cherish mine

there’s something in a woman’s bones that celebrates

the twin sustenance of food and sisterhood,

something that honors the balm that resides

in the love of mothers—biological or not —

that knows life is painful and bearable

knows, too, that only love sustains us

through the long walk home

Rosemary

When first I met you my life lay in shards

at my feet, splinters of mirrored glass reflecting

worry and woe back at my astonished eyes

discontent called my name

you asked me to look closely

wait and listen for my truth, for answers

I never cried in front of you

yet the kindness in your eyes

called my name

steeled my courage

led me home

together we mended

the fragile fragments

fashioned woe into a window

a doorway

a way in & out

of my delicate, willing heart

Laura

Voice clenched in terror

I sat before you

too many secrets trapped

in too many memories

my lips afraid to speak

my brain shattered by shock

I wanted to shout, but could not

I wanted to silence years of no-no-no

dive, singing, into the boundless sea of yes-yes-yes

I longed to drown in epiphany, be reborn

a woman whose tongue was ablaze

with voluptuous vowels

loose-limbed consonants

I could not have known

the way out was strewn

with prayers and poems

pictures drawn of fierce, howling mouths

the dark eyes of a young girl staring back at me

her twisted mouth clamped shut

her lonesome hands reaching

for something it would take me years to recognize

when at last the stifling air stirred

I began to cry and sculpted Amazons of clay

fists clenched against injustice, wanting — always wanting —

to laugh, to dance, to say what I needed to say

without censor, without regret, without retaliation

and you, a patient midwife,

witnessed my bloody birth without flinching

breath after precious breath you stood resolute

as I gathered the lost syllables

reclaiming the nouns, verbs, plump sentences

of my mother tongue

the native language of my soul

Lucia

Mother of mothers dark and divine

your secret keys unlocked ancient doorways

ushering me down dusty roads

peppered with red poppies and parched ruins

Sicily captured me, cradled me in her fragrant arms

coaxed my soul from its too-long slumber

your audacity, your heart, your laughter

spoke of things long forgotten

daring me to speak as well

and to remember

remember

always

remember

Her name

Her name

Her name

Defiance

by Mary Saracino

I was bred to appease

close the gaping mouth

of desire

a child speaking

in the foreign tongue of docility

relying on conforming consonants

denying voracious vowels their due

jailing truth behind clenched teeth

taunt lips, a shaking, frightened heart.

Even then something inside

refused to cooperate

prowled the dark alleyways of muscles

scrawling thick, bloody letters

on the walls of veins staining the bedrock

of sinew with graffiti

something stood proud like a furious flag

called for revolution

something howled: "I am not for sale."

Even under the sullied breath of childhood

I sometimes whispered whole

sentences of insubordination

befriended the slang of dissension

quietly at first

then more confidently, questioning

each syllable that stuttered across my startled mouth

all that my voice withheld

my relentless heart demanded.

Long miles from youth to now

ripened into insurgence

not anarchy for its own selfish sake

not lawlessness

but justice breaking free.

The years ferried me past complacency

away from the shoreline of orthodoxy

beyond the borderlands of muteness

far from the places where a woman’s silence

is her best kept secret

where she must always know her place

abdicate her will

keep her mouth shut.

Now rebel nouns and verbs dance

upon the tender tip

of my tenacious tongue.

A woman must always ignite her voice

speak of her hunger

satisfy the ache

of purpose that gives birth to defiance

suckle it to her breast

tend to it as if it were

the last child on Earth

the only hope for humanity’s survival

because it is.