December 8, 2021
An Ode to Women breathing and not.
Baby, Sibling, mentor, Lover, Wife, Mom, Grand Mom, a plethora of roles so beautifully and dexterously packed in by the creator into the little unassuming frame called woman. The green room is awash with tension anxiety and activity, suddenly for a brief moment subdues into a silence only to be broken by the shrill shriek. The doctor gently gives a little spank on the cute little butt.
Thus heralding in a life so subtle so soft but packed with the potential of a hand that rocks the cradle can rule the world. The little bundle now snug in the hands of the mother her gaze ever so gently tracing those beautiful lines on her face.
The mother just passed on a lineage so rich so deep. A joy for some a frown so beautifully masked for those still weighed down under the evils of a society that don’t look the girl child in the eye. Just like the cocoon as it struggles to break free from its shell and metamorphoses into the beautiful butterfly.
Its delicate wings shimmering like silk, flush with color, intricate designs so beautifully etched on those silky wings. This beautiful creature dexterously crafted by the Almighty. Flirting ever so gingerly, gently on the daffodils and the dandelions on the fields yonder.
Here we have this beauty of creation set amidst the backdrop of a two faced society, creating just the perfect cocoon for the struggle that lies ahead and the final break-thru.
Baby… suddenly the home lights up as in ten thousand’s of watts , the bundle unfurling its blanket of joy in the home and slowly spreading its waves through the neighborhood. Days melt away as time flies, the nights ever so active as the little one still full of energy eyes wide open twinkling in the dark. The rest of the family catches up on dwindling sleep. The little one still confused as to the silence wondering as to why the silence and the darkness has crept in. Amused she amused snuggles into the mothers bosom. The warm breath of the mother comforts her back to sleep.
Those baby years pass by ever so quickly, very soon metamorphosing into the little sister to the new born. Protective now of her sibling brother with a hint of jealousy as the sibling brother steals the limelight.
School opened up another box of goodies, accompanying her little brother to school , helping with his homework, guidance in those teenage years the sister playing the mentor helping through those heartbreak years right though college.
Years roll by preciously adding layers of memories engraved in bronze. She now metamorphoses into the young woman. Courting her very own. As life rolls on, the woman has left leaving a chasm of emptiness. Her new role as wife, a different house, different people, and new parents leaving all those priceless memories built over all those decades.
She embarks on a new life, taking the plunge not looking back, one can only fathom the strength within as she unpacks the same packet of joy in the new world but painfully masking her longing for her family she has left behind.
Pain and sorrow are etched in her life, but with strength embedded within, she goes through the rigors, hurting deep within but with a shield of grace rock hard, you would never see through.
Years roll by now metamorphosing into Mother bringing its own set of challenges seeing the kids through school, mentoring them through their heartbreaks, making ends meet. We see management at is best, handling, finance and the house so beautifully.
Decades roll by, the Kids have settled, moved home, the house which was once full with chatter has now moved into silence zone not like the silence that prevailed for a brief moment in the green room giving way to a Tsunami of joy. This time though silence is here to stay, painfully lingering, the walls seem to cave in, the silence is deafening.
But Grace and inner strength prevails. She gave it all that the creator embedded in her, not so much as expecting even a hug in return. The night’s sky lights up those little stars twinkling ever so subtly. The creator has pulled her off from this capsule called time into eternity. That star seems to shine a bit brighter today, not usually, a gentle breeze with the scent of wild lilies and lavender from the fields yonder just wafted in brushed my cheeks. Mom, could you linger a little longer. Metamorphosis thy name is WOMAN.