An ode to the matriarchs of my family. Present and past.
She is in all of us.
That woman we call grandma. She holds the keys to the generations of women before us. We are them, and they are us.
I see parts of her reflected in all of us. I see her true essence. A vibrant, radiant, open hearted warrior. With long black hair, and sparkle in her eye.
The Earth sings with every step she takes.
I love you,
We say with our eyes, not our words. With our embraces that melt the walls that built up over time.
Of our own pain. Feeling forgotten, not accepted, or approved. Hurt by another woman, or a man and we blame it on her.
But then we take another breath … deeply. Because the walls of our heart are too hard. And all we want is to soften. To feel ease in our body and mind. But we forgot how.
Until we’ve taken enough inhales, and exhales … to surrender into the rhythm of the Earth, rather than the buzzing of our minds.
Only then, are we able to be with soft our hearts again. Feel the womb, and eventually feel a sensation of love.
In everything.
The flow of raw beauty, sensual movement, alive and powerful from the roots of our toes to the tips of our fingers. A sovereign body.
Dancing in her power.
She is released from within.
Of the chains that held her. Holds us, from our light and dark.
Through her descendants.
We realize these chains are an illusion of our mind. Manipulated by a world of oppression.
fear of what could happen if we embody our full sovereignty.
I love you grandma
ancient through time.
Powerful in her love,
grounded in wisdom,
soft in her embrace.
The Wild Woman that exists within us.
within our bones
within our breasts
within the beat of the drum and the rhythm of the
heart
beat
