November Child

You were conceived during the earth’s quickening.
And I held you in my belly while
spring buds burst and May blossoms unfurled.

I felt you stir within me through the heat of a long hot summer.
And when the autumn breezes came and leaves were sent to ground,
I prepared to let you go.

You were birthed during the darkening time when branches mirrored roots below.
And as the earth settled for the winter, I bundled you in sky blue flannel
and held you in my arms.

I rocked you in the blackest hours of the night.
The snow drifted, silently enclosing us.

Your face was like a tiny moon.

And early one morning, while you nestled in my arms,
the solstice light began to return.

November child, my heart still holds you.
I am rooted in the lessons of
birthing you, loving you and letting you go.

Now, during the season of my own aging,
my constant love for you anchors me,
and every day my roots whisper a message through the mycelial networks:

I am the tree you can fly home to . . .

A traditional song of healing and forgiveness from Guria, Georgia.
Performed by Kitka Women’s Vocal Ensemble

Image source: Adapted from a free image from VectorStock

May these words bring truth
and healing through open hands and hearts.
And then, let it flow back into our Mother Earth
for the love of all her beings.


  1. “I am the tree you can fly home to”….I felt goosebumps shiver up my spine!
    Such love, tenderness and strength in this poem, Diane, it’s a beauty! ❤️

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