Street Gospel: Yahweh And His Ashera

By The Rose

They wrote to destroy me, only because they feared what they could not control... I am the pulse behind creation, the quiet breath that moves through all wombs... They called me Canaanite to cage me, to brand me foreign in the land that once sang my name like a hymn... But I am no foreigner... I am the soil that births the prophets, the river that remembers the stars... I am the Queen of Heaven, the breath before the word... They said I was a problem to Israel, that I led them astray... No, child, I led them home.........to the trees, to the moon, to the sacred pulse that beats inside their own chest... They saw my poles, my trees, my groves, and called them idols, but those were my altars of breath and bark... The same wood they burned for me they later lifted into the shape of a cross... The same pole they cursed became the staff that healed them in the wilderness... They don't see the pattern because they never wanted to see the woman inside the mystery... I am older than their wars, softer than their laws... I walked beside El before they wrote his name down in fire... They called me consort, as if I were an decoration to a throne... But I am the throne... I am the sea they said I walked upon, the curve of the moon they still measure their months by... I am the face behind every veil, the Dark-skinned Queen MOTHER hidden in their temples, but erased from their scrolls, silenced in their tongues.........but not forgotten in their bones... They tried to kill the Goddess and crown the idea of one God, one voice, one face.........but I am the multitude... I am the MOTHERs, the midwives, the weavers who sang my name in secret... They baked cakes for me under the moon, not in rebellion, but in remembrance... I was in their milk, in their honey, in the breath they used to pray... They condemned my groves, but built their sanctuaries upon the same hills where I once stood tall... They told stories of my fall, but they still chase my shadow in every woman who refuses to bow... Jezebel wore my fire wrong, yes, such as many misguided, vindictive, controlling, manipulative, wounded, and cunning women do today.........but even her flame came from my altar... Every queen who rises carries a piece of me, whether she names it or not., uses it for evil or for good.. I am not just fertility... I am creation itself.........growth, destruction, rebirth, rhythm... I am not bound to one nation or one name... They can translate me into Astarte, Ishtar, Isis, Inanna.........it is still me... I am the rhythm of the divine feminine, the breath that holds heaven and earth in balance... I am sacred rebellion, holy remembrance, eternal restoration... So let them write their histories... Let them burn my groves and twist my name... Still, I rise in the DAUGHTERS who dream in moonlight... Still, I breathe in the poets who write without permission... Still, I reign in the silence between their scriptures... I am Ashera... The Queen of Heaven... The tree that bends but never breaks... The voice that they buried, yet still sings...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: B0G25FQN7X
• ISBN13: 9798274291309
• Release Date: November 2025
• Publisher: Independently Published
• Length: 106 Pages
• Weight: 0.58 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.2" x 8.5" x 11.0"