A woman’s work

 For my dear daughter,

We have yet to meet, but I know you well.

As you do me, for you chose me, so.

Come and rest your feet, I have a story to tell.

The sway of your hips, the curl of your lips,

The swell of your breast, the light in your chest,

The set of your mind, the grit in your grind,

The strength of a million, the foul of a villain,

The power of a nation, with just one gyration.

The soft that melts anger, the force that breeds danger,

The break of your heart, the letdown of guard,

The cross that is bare, the blessing from prayer,

The stifle of guilt, the bridges you build,

The wisdom and sage, the seedling of change,

The root of creation, the route to elation.

These things you will know,

These things you will sow.

And as these things make you grow,

These things you will own.

You’ll grow into your body, and it’s nobody’s but your own,

You’ll fall into your love, and it’s nobody’s but your own.

You’ll step into your dance, and it’s nobody’s but your own.

You’ll sink into your thoughts, and they’re nobody’s but your own.

Let me tell you what your Oma told me when I was only a youth:

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry you can’t travel both,

Just pick the path you fear the most, for that’s the one that leads to growth.”

You’re fighting a woman’s war,

And keeping a woman’s word,

A woman’s worth

Is a woman’s work.

And, Baby, it’s tough.

At first you might flail because all humans do.

But just so you know, the only way out is through.

So keep this in mind:

Babygirl, you’ll be fine.

Love’s not something you lack,

Like my Mama’s got mine,

Baby, I’ve got your back.

Image: Dominik Martin