I whispered to the green grass

How do I be both woman and stoic

In this world

When all it requires is the survival of the fittest?

 

I cupped my hands and listened

But, other than Mother Earth’s heart beats

I could hear nothing else!

 

I then shrieked my question to the winds

Hoping that the atoms and the molecules

Would disperse it to the skies

Again, I waited, for days and nights

Seated alone, still and expectant

But, other than the skies’ patient hums

Towards my lamentations

I could hear no answer!

 

I then dived into a mountain pond

Where the water was all clear and crystal like

And I bubbled my question in its ripples

But other than the nymphs’ ever festive songs

I could get, still, no answer to my quest!

 

I then chose to kiss my question into the petals of flowers

I kissed thousands, hoping that the essence of what I sought

Would reach the soul of existence

But other than the flower fairies’ eternal drum like celebrations of life

I could hear naught to what I sought!

 

Pray, it would seem that I was left all alone

Having to cater to my own self

Trying to fill in my own blanks

With my own intuitive assumptions

Why, I then retreated to the safety of my nest

Closed my eyes in painful yet elevated awakened spirit

And felt my answers coming to me

I am woman, hammered the blood in my veins

I am woman, but meant not to be stoic

I am fragility, I am sensitivity, I am tears

I am messy, I am confusion, I am needy

I am emotional, I am weak, I am misery

And amidst all that I am

I am to accept it as such

I am to smile when the swords of my self

Pierce through the skin of my back

I am such

For I was meant to be

I am such

For I was meant to be always

Engaged in a mystical quest!