Tuesday, February 07, 2012

poem draft : hearing the call

i'm still working on this one...

see how the ocean waves comes in
quietly retells how we come from
and are called back to it

tears remind us of our watery home,
the concoction of salt, mineral, fluid
where our comfort lies

for many, we are the first generation of women
allowed to be completely free
and with access to that freedom

we birth our ancestors, listen to our ancestor voices
moreso, hear our own calling and realize the voice
behind that call is our own

no longer must we mask ourselves for survival
masquerading to fit

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