Not all will see her
Lifetime of scars
Colors adorn her
Painting pictures hollow
Performing her rituals
Loads carried high
She integrates into the fabric
The thick societal weave
Her face speaks silence
Her heart cries wild
Breath she stifles
Suffocating alive
Ahead lay dry arid lands
Dusted with desolation
Yet seeds of passion fire love
Await the raining days
This spirit of woman
Has never come and gone
Without a mark
Upon at least one soul
Sisters of mothers never known
Bloom in past and future
Some blazing trails
Some leave treasures buried
So Sing and dance
Like nightingale and lark
Or roam and glide
As swans of the lake
Embrace the gifts
Of all that make the ‘her’
Rise to your part
As designed by nature’s Mother