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!