Wednesday, June 19, 2013

I am Me


I am not an ordinary woman with ordinary dreams.
I am not just another woman.
I am not The Woman.
I am just me.

I don't dream of fancy houses in a sprawling town,
with state-of-the-art services and manicured lawns,
I dream of making a home of cob
up in the hills somewhere, with love;
our hands stained by the earth that gave us life,
where we will live even when we die,
a home filled with the smell of sweat and earth,
as we toil with our hearts to raise our hearth.

I don't want gifts that reek of money,
swanky clothes, knick knacks or words of honey;
I want gifts that speak with my heart -
holding hands in silence, or a slow and quiet walk in the dark,
happy to be home and join in the chores,
or share the wanderings of our days and more;
to be with each other when the sun rises and sets,
when time stops to watch us, as we deeply connect.

I don't want to hear sweet nothings and empty words,
or hatred and anger spewed in a space that's so dear,
I want to  hear words that come straight from the belly,
words that breathe love, compassion and empathy;
I want to hear your joys and your sorrows, and
the silent space that connects now, not looking to tomorrows,
I want to know what you ache for, and the dreams you chase,
listen to every cell in your body, seeking love, renewing faith.

I don't want to lie down with you by my side,
for pleasures of the body, or to feel each others' sighs,
I want to know what keeps you alive from inside,
if you'll still love a woman, who's also a man inside and outside;
I want to know if you can sit with it all and see
how beauty flows in everything and just let things be,
I want to know if you can feel me inside, and
still love this woman, with a moustache and hair on her hide.

For I am not an ordinary woman with ordinary dreams.
I am not just another woman.
I am not The Woman.
I am just me.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so glad you pointed me to this poem Priya :-)
    I feel that you were deeply immersed in a vision of that cob house and earth love as you wrote. And i love those last few lines... Hair on her hide indeed. Love!

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