I'm Every Woman

Today I want to post a poem I wrote two months ago, dedicated to a woman I work with. Its about women...how they long to be seen, long to have their beauty and their worth recognized and enjoyed, and most importantly of all, they long to bring beauty to the world around them. I have reflected on this quite frequently this year as I have met many woman who are struggling with the prospect of living out their own femininity.

I believe many women live in the shadow of the desires they made themselves kill, and it is a big shadow, a painful shadow. It is the thing we try to hide or forget about, and it has caused us to take on a cynical natures towards our lives, our bodies, our relationships, and our happiness. We are harder now than ever before, and it's not because we are opressed from the outside, it is because we are repressed on the inside - having to deny or live without so many of our natural feelings, desires, and instincts in order continue being the "free" and "modern" women that we are.

Truth be told, many woman I observe around me are desolate, loveless, lonely, and wondering what to do with their feminity in a world where it is still viciously assaulted from many directions. And men? Relationships? Well, their hearts are so buried and afraid from countless abuses and the hardness that comes with self preservation, they don't feel they have the faintest hope anymore of finding someone they can trust enough to truly love. But, there is still an ache for companionship, and ache to be loved and cherished, for their beauty to be appreciated, and just like roses in a vase, they wait with both their thorns and soft pedals for someone to see the beauty they let themselves give up once upon a time. Hence, a poem:



Just Like Roses

I put my roses on display
so I could see them every day
divinest red against the grey
created just to be that way...beautiful.

And just like roses, so do we
want a man who's heart will choose to see
the treasure that a woman brings
into a life of empty things... is beautiful.

And what of roses hidden well
whose beauty none have seen to tell?
Created to be seen, they wait,
for deeper love with deeper hate...of beautiful.

Oh, lovely roses, you should be seen,
Just like the woman by the stream,
with nothing but a broken dream
and what is left for her to glean...of beautiful.

For you, my sister, are also a rose
Beyond the thorns your softness shows
perhaps not seen by him you chose
let it be YOUR HEART that knows...you are beautiful.