In this season of Light and Life, several of the women I most love hurdle relational transitions and fight for their voices.

The backdrop of the Holidays are an especially deep time to reflect on who we are, where we are, and what we believe.

I lift these women up to Love, and honor their choices to rise and sing, Hallelujah!

Nirvana in NYC

I call freedom.
she anoints me,
a baptism of tears.
Day after day,
I see things many people never will.
Behind Merlin’s dragon,
I ponder,
and prowl,
and prance,
and plan,
pushing holes through its curtained wings.
In other places,
I was not there because you wore a blindfold
which deafened the screams of my tangerine tights.
I strain against your shackles like a run away.
The pinch of society’s pursed lips chaffs
my lips as I intone your rules for me:
“Talk like a lady,”
“Cross your legs,”
“Brush your hair,”
“Never order dessert on a first date,”
and “Always wear clean underwear.”
Me, I invent myself,
“Ain’t I a woman too?”
Mama, we don’t wear hats in church no more
or carry your hand-me-down purses.

I collide with impropriety with abandon-
free to choose from the chaos,
strangled by the strands of choice.
I safety pin
Past,
Present,
Future
and feel no sympathy.
I exercise my demons;
Paradise regained.
I weep Niobe tears,
raining my own lake of relief.
I swim there still on hot days lost.
Energy pounds beneath my skin.
Purple lanterns shine through the mist
and lead me through the labyrinth of  my hidden forest.
I open my eyes to see beyond this nostalgic place
a new world of wonder and truth.
I toss my chains of restriction and grief.
I stand certain that life’s path will lead me.
The sun shines bright in all directions,
to guide my way,
for now my eyes can truly see.
The aura of corruption no longer glistens.
I become one of the majority
and begin my travels beyond known security.

Hallelujah!