THE WORLD HERSELF MUST CHANGE
If we feminize her, then I ask you to your face:
Have you ever known a woman awakening
To whom she has become
To torn & dirty clothing,
And cleanly lives.
Her breath can’t quite sync the change.
She’s wakened to our best & so much less unless you
We live so intensely watching chimera
Aborted promises –
Gutted for greed
But she’s awake.
It’s time to let go of the drama
To forge ahead on upcoming realities
So shave your head in rebirth
Feel the changes the Light will make
On your scalp.
Let the wind & wynd of your language
Move you to indwell
A willing heart.
Set down everything of who you have been,
If you wish to be anything else.
her hands smelled of Gardenias
from the oils added to the diffuser
bees danced outside her door.
The hand on my low back guiding me
So long has passed midway
Settled atop my spine
Watching over my shoulders
In excitement when I venture out
But the me who’s not That Me
Is inert, buried in a book,
A dream, as sublimation of life
Happening to itself elsewhere.
I miss ritual, the drums, the sage burning, the comradely changes of women meeting one month apart, coming from Church by way of the kitchen, let us eat before we drum.
And so we cleared away, choosing drums or uncovering them, forming an in & out circle with Grandmother in the center. We started her heartbeat, accosting all the grandmothers to reach for rattles, to join our rhythm.
We drummed away sadness while we welcomed its allowance; we drummed the sun across the sky, we broke & formed & ate again.
To whom this moment belongs:
Of whom life examples all
Unique to each
A skein of heartfelt beauty
I have had that discussion
In languages I no longer speak
Won’t you set me free this moment?
When tears mist my eyes, hurting-salt
From glimpsing the rainbows just outside?
I don’t expect you to fall upon me weeping
When my eulogy is read
Unless I am the one reading it.
I am a Libra
All I can do is come into balance.
I am free.
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