Those who do not understand why
the ancients deified women
Didn’t have mothers like ours.
When she smiles the sun shines
From the bubbling brook of her laughter
spawns the well spring of life
But when sadness casts its long shadow
Tears fall, torrents
And the whole world weeps with her.
In this rain, we march on
We dawn sackcloth and ashes,
With gnashing of teeth
As we bare witness to her mourning.
Yet In all her states
Shades and phases
In her fluidity
As loyal subjects
Bask in the glow
Of her queendom
A product of the infinite
— to honor our foremothers for whom to be bold was not a choice but a willful act of resistance as they committed to change the world for the better for their daughters… and their sons.
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