I have a
little girl
to take care of.
Her world,
her future,
her life –
they start with me.
To teach her to be
kind
and
clever,
to show her
love –
how to and why –
and when it’s right to fight.
And to never deny
the darkness,
but always
always
always
help her shine her light.
Nothing else matters.
Everything matters.
It’s International Women’s Day! Unfortunately, I’ve been feeling under the weather, so I haven’t done much to celebrate, and my brain feels too foggy to write something really good. So, I’ll just say this:
I’m thankful for the amazing women in my life, and the strong, brave women who came before us. I’m proud of the women who dream, and who love, and who go on when it feels impossible. We are heroes, rock stars, the glue that keeps this broken world together. If I had to choose a million times, I would still choose to be a woman, even when it’s hard and unfair. I carry the universe in me. All women do.
And I’ll share a couple of my favorite poems I’ve written in the past. I hope you enjoy them! And I hope that you tell the women in your life today – and yourself, if you’re a woman (yes, ALL women) – just how wonderful and unbreakable and valuable and worthy and loved they are.
************
To the Women Who Came Before
To you,
the women,
the warriors and weavers and
witches and wanderers,
the brave and bold
who came before,
I promise this:
My light will magnify your light.
I will shine because
you reached for the sky
and grabbed the sun and moon and stars
to fight the darkness.
Your words,
your courage,
your heart,
your home –
the one you made with your own hands –
will live on in me.
I will stand and speak.
My voice will carry as yours,
over the mountains you climbed,
across the sands of time
and the pillars and platforms you built.
I won’t make myself small
just to fit into the corners
of a world made and sustained
by mothers.
I cradle your wisdom in my soul
because you carved a place for it.
I will keep that place
sacred and whole.
I will nurture the fire you lit
and pass the eternal torch.
************
Eve
A story we’ve heard:
The first of us all
(to fall) –
help-meet and wife,
made and prized,
then punished,
removed and reviled.
The woman who
became a warning.
And history became
both judge and jury,
gave us no choice,
no voice.
The story became ours,
but it never belonged to us.
And before, and now,
down in our bones
we know it.
We know:
It is human to fall
and rise again,
to seek,
to learn,
to live in curiosity.
And so,
can we reclaim her,
weave her story anew
and see her,
this mother of mothers?
Blood of our blood –
can we finally love
(not blame)
her?
*March is Women’s History Month, and tomorrow, March 8th, is International Women’s Day. I wrote a poem around this time last year – you can find it here – and so it felt right to post something this year, too. I hope you like it, and please be sure to take some time this month (especially tomorrow) to appreciate all of the amazing women in your life, past and present. I have many. They have my heart.*
************
Eve
A story we’ve heard:
The first of us all
(to fall) –
help-meet and wife,
made and prized,
then punished,
removed and reviled.
The woman who
became a warning.
And history became
both judge and jury,
gave us no choice,
no voice.
The story became ours,
but it never belonged to us.
And before, and now,
down in our bones
we know it.
We know:
It is human to fall
and rise again,
to seek,
to learn,
to live in curiosity.
And so,
can we reclaim her,
weave her story anew
and see her,
this mother of mothers?
Blood of our blood –
can we finally love
(not blame)
her?
A Virginia Writer's Diary 