Hey all! So, I’ve recently started watching the Disney Marvel show Agatha All Along. Can we talk about how incredible Kathryn Hahn is as Agatha? Whether it’s her mischievous grin or her performances on SNL, she always delivers! But what caught my eye is Agatha's pendant, symbolizing the Greek Triple Goddess of womanhood: the Maiden, Mother, and Crone.
The Maiden represents youth, idealism, and the search for identity, which resonates with many of us. The Mother isn’t just about being a literal mother—it’s about nurturing something greater than oneself, whether raising a family, building a career, or contributing creatively to society. Then, the Crone embodies wisdom and experience, sharing hard-earned knowledge with others.
What’s fascinating is that women move between these phases throughout their lives. It’s not linear—it’s a cycle shaped by experiences, growth, and challenges faced. Inspired by this journey, I’ve written a poem that reflects how, even in these roles, women continue to navigate struggles. Here’s my take on it—I hope you like it!
Maiden
With eyes wide open, she stepped into the world,
A maiden pure, with dreams unfurled.
They praised her youth, her delicate bloom,
But whispered plans of her impending doom.
For those with power, who "knew it all,"
Saw in her innocence, their rise, her fall.
They watched her dance in fields of hope,
And led her to the lies they spoke.
“Trust us,” they said, “we’ve walked this earth,
We’ve tasted life and know its worth.”
But beneath their words, a shadow lurked,
And in their arms, her light was murked.
Mother
She bore the weight of the world in her hands,
Nurtured souls, tilled life from barren lands.
Her heart, a beacon, her touch a balm,
But they mistook her strength for calm.
Some came to drink from her endless well,
Yet left her hollow, an empty shell.
“You give too much,” they said with scorn,
Yet demanded more with each new dawn.
When she asked, “What more can I give?”
They laughed and said, “This is how you live.
The practical world, we’ve seen it all,
You must endure until you fall.”
Crone
As her hair turned silver, her face lined with grace,
They turned from her, no longer saw her face.
For wisdom that once shone from life’s defeat,
Was now in her eyes, fierce and complete.
But still, some scoffed, “You know too much,
Stay quiet, old woman, don’t speak, don’t touch.”
Yet she had lived through all their games,
Survived their lies, their greed, their claims.
Not only men but women too,
Had tried to clip the wings she grew.
But now, in her crone’s unyielding reign,
She stood tall, beyond their disdain.
For the world, they thought was theirs to own,
Was hers to reclaim, as she stood alone.
And while they played their petty game,
She rose above, no longer tame.
~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse
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