There is a young woman, beautiful, inside and out, who
is searching, reaching out, outside of herself,
wanting so much to find herself, wanting so much to break through
whatever that invisible barrier is that we all feel at some time,
which we push at and poke and try to move out of the way,
or sprint around or butt up against or curse or fear
or try to shatter, punch, slap, cry, fight, fall and maybe quit,
which we all battle in our own ways and all of us come to terms with.
pic from public domain google images
Upon Your Liberation
I wish I could be a mirror for you, a looking glass,
Like Alice, that you could walk through and find your Real Self,
And whether you are small or shy or are afraid
In a big world,
Or depart that small place to grow big on a wild adventure
With a smoking caterpillar, green on mossy stone,
Who’s no longer looking down at you but telling you
That you could be anything, my dear, anything, and he says that he is not
Blowing smoke in your face,
And he leads you to that cat who dares you to be as cool as you want to be,
And then sipping tea, madly, with anger, and madly, with madness,
You party with the best of them, and find yourself wherever you are,
Maybe somewhere over that rainbow, with heart and brains and courage, and
You’re not going to lose your head this time, because you’ve learned that
You’re always in Kansas,
And Auntie Em and the White Queen and all those great women
Who are you, Who are your history, Who are
Your gentle-going-to-become-woman-spirit will now be
And will forever be, released; and no looking glass
Or rainbow is ever going to be needed by you again
Because, sister, you are here now, arrived and live, forever, one.
Randy Mazie
The Writer's Village 