Woman

I am a Woman

I bear the weight of history
in my bones
the Curse of Eden

As a child
I sat in church
in white leotards
and black patent-leather shoes
and learned of my biblical choices

to be a saint, pure and faultless
virginal
or to be a whore, the Jezebel
Delilah who brings good men down
a Daughter of Eve

I was forever to blame
for all that was wrong
with the world

if I had sex
the boy became a man
and I became a slut
if I had sex without consent
I was doubted, my scruples shredded
I must have "wanted it"
or my skirt was too short,
my blouse too low
my dancing too provocative

I learned I needed a man
to make all the important decisions
as I was not trustworthy
too emotional, hormonal
irrational
needing control

my breasts were the brunt
of jokes
told at the water cooler
or over a beer
used to sell hot wings and lust

I was reduced to a body
from which to take pleasure
take
take
take

I feel the shame
in my blood
declared unclean
in all my woman-ness

shame of centuries
bearing the brunt of violence
blame for a man's impotence
horror at the thought that Jesus
would be physically associated
with the filthiness

of a woman
a wife

my sisters compete against me
shame me
divide us into good and bad
instead of banding together
so many clinging tenaciously
to the Lie
that We Have It Good

if I assert myself
show initiative
use my brain and my power
I am a Bitch or a Man-Eater

I am praised for acting Lady-like
deferring to men less competant
eating my rage
smiling against the bile
in the back of my throat

preachers shake their bibles
at me
demanding that I be satisfied
with living in man's shadow
accepting his god-given privilege
superiority

I Am A Woman
I have moved mountains
won battles that should have killed me
given birth to Beauty
wept tears that watered gardens
brought Color, Depth and
Astonishing Vistas

I have comforted, given hope
built homes and healed wounds
taught, shaped, and empowered
daughters and sons
confidant of their foundation

I have seen the Face of God
in deepest sorrow
in highest Overcoming

I have blessed and given
holy bread
had my hand torn open
by righteous dmanation
at the altar
accused of apostasy
and witchcraft
as I blessed the children
prayed for the dying

but

I am a Woman
a Daughter of Eve
The Mother of All Living
Keeper of the Garden
Seeker of Knowledge
Fighter
Nurturer
Overcomer

Daughter of God
Incarnation of Life
Mirror of Divinity

Beater of Odds

I am a Woman
a Survivor
Life Giver

I am a Woman
God's Creation
and

I am

Good.

real life

Do you ever have the experience of dreaming about someone you care about...and in the dream you share a really personal moment;  honest sharing, intense emotion, or a hug?  and then you see that person the next day and you are a little self-conscious because that moment that connected you felt so real?  Maybe you even wonder if they dreamed it too...

 

 

I saw her today

and blushed without warning

I needn't feel embarrassed

I dreamt of her last night

and in the dream

she wept

sobbed

and fell into my arms

with limitless trust

her body trembling

with sorrow

 

I woke up feeling

raw

vulnerable

in that dream-moment

we were soul-to-soul

connected

 

when I saw her

in real life

she was composed

as usual

boundaries intact

our usual polite distance

 

yet without thinking

I reached out

and hugged her

 

for a moment

she let go

with a deep sigh

let herself be

embraced

 

for a moment

we were dreaming again

carpe diem

 

 

sometimes

just sometimes

the universe tumbles in such a way

that everything comes together

 

the sky opens

you are standing in the spotlight

disparate sentences become a paragraph

in the same story

 

sometimes there is soundless music

leading you

carrying you

toward an unknown point

 

a moment

where you stand on the edge

of a cliff

the drop clouded by fog

 

but everything in you says

go

jump

trust

 

do the absurd

go against your character

be unpredictable

a wee bit mad

 

it was a story

told by a stranger

in a church

when i thought the book had ended

 

the picture around me

narrowed

it was him and me

and his urgent tale

 

my heart raced

my breath caught

my palms sweat

and the rest of my life began

 

go

go

go

go ahead

 

ahead

move

walk

trust

 

a stranger

told a story once

and my whole life

 

changed



soul friend

from the writing prompt from OctPoWri:  Friendship

 

 

"And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed."  Kahlil Gibran

 

 

on a cold November night
a blanket of heaviness
and darkness
enveloped that house

i'd watched my friend
give in to the battle
let it carry her away
into a land of peace

away from the ducks
on the lake
the cranes that would return
in March

away from her beloved
the music, the laughter
all the things she loved
in this world

it was too much
for her body to take
I held her hand
when she flew away

i lost a friend
a heart-friend
who gave my heart joy
who wasn't afraid like me

moments later
you arrived
in charge
to take care of details

but first
a stranger
you enclosed me
in your arms 

for a moment
the rest of the world
would wait
while you paused

to see me
blanket me with grace
lift the burden of the night
just a little

for a moment
the night wasn't so cold
i wasn't alone
and i didn't have to stand

on my own strength

wordlessly
you comforted
understood
blessed my sorrow

that moment
is carved into my soul
forever
impossible to fade

and every time we laugh
every time we cry
every time we toast
to  life, to silliness, to sorrow

every time we stop the world
for a moment
to embrace
acknowledge each other

in the dailyness
and busyness
of the day
every time

i find a feather on my heart
from brushing against your wings
that no one else can see
and i am blessed 

baptized again
with peace, courage
and the mysterious eternal love
of a soul friend

november will never be
so cold
and death will never be
so frightening

now
that you
are here.

The Real World

 

      Earlier this evening I was sitting out on the front porch.  Actually, it's a stoop, but it's big enough for two chairs.  After a long, intense week at work, I was exhausted, so I just wanted to sit and read, get my mind off of the complexities of life and death and the absurdity and meanness of the current election.  Something made me look up, and in that moment, I realized the world... had come alive.  The air was so still I could hear kids and adults laughing and talking as they painted a garage two blocks away.  I watched a group of birds chatting and giggling (I swear!) at the edge of the neighbor's driveway, delighting in the sprays of the sprinkler and no doubt gossiping about the latest antics of the woman next door.  I heard a pickup truck pull up at the house on the corner opposite ours, and a father got out, obviously tired like me from a long week's work.  He still wore his work clothes; a navy blue short-sleeve shirt and navy blue pants, dirty and worn from both work and laundry.  His cap had a logo on it that I couldn't read, and his shirt bore his name, but that, too, was too far for me to read.  He was speaking to someone in the truck and soon a boy half his size slid off the bench seat onto the street and fell into his father's embrace.  They stood there by the truck, door still open, hugging in the dusk.  Then suddenly as if they'd woken from a dream, they parted and Dad grabbed a football out of the cab and they began a game of catch in front of the house. 

     I heard a swish of leaves and saw a rabbit hop across the lawn as if to get my attention.  He did.  Then he stopped suddenly as if caught in the act, standing inanimately still, as if not even breathing, yet his twitching nose would not be tamed.  He stared at me as if to make himself invisible by his stillness.  I went back to my book.  Several minutes later, I looked up.  He hadn't moved, still statuesque in the shadow of the big oak tree, nose twitching nervously.  I smiled.  Minutes later, I snuck a peek, to find him on the other side of the tree, suddenly frozen again in place as if we were playing a game of Freeze Tag.  I watched him.  I tried to hold his gaze, but he won the game, I looked away first.  Down the street I saw one of the elderly Hispanic sisters in the neighborhood heading north, and her sister coming down the other street heading east, oblivious to each other and hidden by the houses on the block.  As they each rounded the same corner, one of them threw up her hands in surprised delight, laughing and reaching out to embrace her sibling.  I chuckled, feeling a bit sneaky having seen it coming ahead of time.  This joyful, spontaneous reunion.  Grace. 

      It's Friday night.  I sat at the bedside of two different men this week who were dying on hospice, both so strong and stubborn that though their spirits were willing to go, their hearts were too strong to give up the fight just yet.  Family kept vigil, hour after hour, day and night, waiting.  Keeping watch with such ferocious love it transcended all the dysfunctional relationships they normally shared.  They were brave.  All of them.  Nurses fed them with cookies and coffee.  A daughter swabbed her father's lips with a tiny sponge on a stick.  A sister described all the glories of that unseen, unknown heaven, coaxing her brother to go and claim the prize, to no avail.   I held the hands of the dying; strong, farmer hands.  Once calloused and dirty from daily hard work.  Love everywhere.  Not perfect, not pretty all the time.  But love nonetheless. 

      My heart aches for this world, this world behind what we see.  The mystery, the power and beauty.  So much noise, so loud, so chaotic sometimes it makes me crazy.  And then I look.  And see.  The real world.  The real behind the false and the empty and the stupid.  The Good.  It's there. 

And it's beautiful.  

drought

she came to the fountain

looking for a wish

something to quench

her parched insides

this was where she'd always come

to partake of the cup

to eat of the bread

taste the wine on her lips

she came

looking for a word

hungering for a blessing

a sip of living water

she looked at the others

all dressed up

with their sunday faces

leaving all their pain at home

she sat down

flipped through the familiar book

seeing the words and the notes

echoes of her childhood

promises of peace passing understanding

life everlasting

all her longings fulfilled

if she came and assumed the role

she bent forward

as if in supplication

too weary to hold up her head

too raw to say the words

to stand up at the asterik

speak at the bold

shake a hand at the Peace

or sing boldly of a fountain filled with blood

she thought of cool water

on her tongue

aching for a hug, a touch

but her neighbor looked at her frightened

this is where she'd always come

this is where they spoke of water gushing up

plentiful, cool, refreshing, life-giving

she could still taste the tangy sweetness of the wine

remembering how the small square of bread

got stuck on the roof of her mouth

she quietly left the fancy room with fancy people

in search of

water



Ankh

(from the Sunday Scribblings' writing prompt: talisman)

round like a mother's belly

stretched tight with life

marks forever in the flesh

a tribute to this time of creation

fertility

new life

possibility

dreams

sterling silver

symbol on a chain

resembling a cross

but more ancient

symbol of life

instead of death

of beginnings

not ending

of forming

assembling

renewing

of mystery

I wear it

as a reminder of life

a remembrance

of that holy time

when I participated

in creation

feeling life forming

in my center

stretching me

expanding me

increasing my world

my experience of what is real

waters flowing

cushioning

announcing

newness

amidst pain

uncertainty

waiting

waiting

the fragility of life

emerging strong

forcefully

from my own body

a symbol around my neck

of my own profound

transfiguration

baptism by womb waters

that cry of life

celebrating

giving praise

my daily reason for hope

a gift given by a sister

facing her own fragility

eventual departure

back into the world before and after

leaving me a symbol

a talisman

of miracle

and light

a reminder

of the timelessness

of Life