Are you ready?
To see me, to see your own reflection within my eyes,
and to accept the truth that defies all lies.
What do that word mean,
to be a sister?
Is it something in the air,
or did I miss that lesson?
I've never had one of those,
so I don';t quite know.
From what I have seen,
you don't know anymore than I do.
Would you like to figure that out with me?
I feel it might be fun.
Hard at first,
but walls are made of stone and the elements of the heart wear them down and show their true nature,
rock
mortar
and dust that has accumulated from a forgetful past.
Does it really all matter that much?
Words said and lost.
Have you ever seen it as all a big game,
that only some know that rules,
and those some are so old when they finally understand it,
that they are left with nothing to play for other than everyone elses chips.
Take them and run,
and weep for the lost life hidden between blank pages.
To have not loved,
touched,
felt
and admired.
The only thing left is to count the chips stolen from cradles of the south,
and know that they were right,
and no one can ever challenge them again.
…
It isn't much of a fight when your all alone with only the voices in your head to talk to.
What I do know is that I am learning,
I am growing every day,
and in many ways I am shrinking,
down down down.
Soon I will be able to crawl into a mans arms and feel safe,
cradled to sleep to the rhythm of his heart beat.
No more worries of pain,
for no one can hurt me the way that they did.
And no one can hurt fire.
With its spindling finger that caress the dark oak.
Trees that have been long rooted,
stuck in their fixed position and un-budging.
Fire kissed them to sleep with the tongues of yellow, as the forest burns to the ground.
I was told that when someone has dug themselves a hole, and have yet to ask for help,
to leave them be,
they are content in their misery.
And who are you to expect any more of them,
look at you all high and mighty with your chariot of truth.
Leave us be and go back home,
your just like Her,
they always said.
Well yes,
I am as a matter of fact.
I am just like Her,
inside of me there lies a slumbering dragon,
kept at bay with the protective armor put on top of my bones.
It was sound insulation,
protecting the dragon from the bitter cold that was spewed all around.
Once in the safety of a home,
the layers and layers we mined,
chipped off one by one,
and with each falling flake there was a scream from within,
a scream of a little girl that so one answered.
As the layers shrank and the sound barrier was weaker,
the great dragon awoke and reacted to the screams of the innocence that was being *****.
“It must be time” the dragon said
“to rain fire through the land.”
But the demons were gone,
and the ghosts were no more.
Save one,
the spirit of the little girl.
The dragon curled around,
this little thing, and layed softly down its head.
“Your safe now little one”
and squeezed her tighter to her heart,
I am here to protect you, and no one shall ever harm you again.
This dragon was protection, for if anything had gone wrong,
but protection never seems to come,
in the way it “should”
it came after the venom had burned the flesh and broken the bones,
after the flower was defiled and the men had all went home,
after there was nothing left and nothing to come,
and the young woman curled up onto the shelf,
and closed her eyes safe at last.
There was nothing left that had not been done.
But then there was another,
a young man who wandered out of the war.
He picked her up,
and carried her home.
He washed the dust from her face,
that had rested there from the shelf.
Bathed her clean,
and brushed her hair.
When she awoke,
the breathed the air.
Something was different,
something was new.
Many others were there,
all with kind faces.
And a sweet boy in the back came close and whispered
'Waloo'
And so now,
it was time to cry.
For that was the only way,
the dragon would open its eyes.
And she cried and raged,
and each layer fell.
Bestowing a radiant beauty,
with blue eyes and curly hair.
The name did not fit,
the name of an angel.
An angel sent from heaven,
to fulfill a wish,
and not loved and honored,
must then take other forms.
And this form is warm,
and this form is green.
A dragon within,
radiating warmth
and green in the surface,
inviting love and nothing else.
So yes,
I am just like Her.
My Mother,
The Mother.
So take my hand and love me now,
for who and whet I am.
Do not persist that you think you know,
for who are you to judge.
There is nothing left to fight for now,
all the angels have been silenced.
The only ones left are you and I...
You requested room be made,
and there is plenty of room for love.
That dragon still awaits,
the day that may still come,
that the creatures who tortured that little white spirit,
will get what they deserve.
But that is a battle that will be left to the spirits,
as they say.
As for you and I,
and me and you,
just know that the road wont be smooth.
The fire has sparked,
and the truth will be spoken.
But it is truly all up to you,
what that word means and how you will choose to give it meaning.
There is nothing else left for me to do.
