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Nov 2019
Rise,
from deep in earth like sweet
rumbles of thunder in spring
pregnant with passion for men
filled with love for children

Rise,
to the sky with spirits of steel,
never wavering, even in doubt,
always holding a steady pace
while traveling on the road of life

Rise,
to reach for and taste the mud
of generations upon giving birth,
tender and strong of heart and back
sustaining all that men cannot

Rise,
from priestesses to prostitutes, sacred
we are all. Made to conceive and lead.
When women don’t rise, truth is corrupted
with edicts and imprisoned with lies

Rise,
don’t let evil pass from morning to night
onto days to dark or until the lie rings true
and wars don’t tear our children
in the name of peace from our hearts
Marta C Weeks
Written by
Marta C Weeks  F/Northern California
(F/Northern California)   
108
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