Holding the Future in My Hands
In a dream, I saw a vision, most spectacular,
A woman rising up from amongst the crowd...
They were weaving baskets of congratulations,
Clucking their tongues, filling their morning
With the sunshine of her accomplishments.
There stood this woman, one from their own tribe,
Stood she tall, elegant, against tradition’s tide~
Braved she the condemnation of her sex
Drove she her ambitions, tasted success~
The path newly carved out from age of time.
At dawn, these mornings, I rise, excited
like thunder. I speak to no one, suddenly
Flowers surface as from torrential storms
Onto the desert of my once parched life
With the women at the market, I share.
No longer do I need dreams nor visions.
I am woman. I rise from the crowd and
Gather baskets woven with compliments.
With praise I sing songs that inspire their days,
And pray their dreams may sing with confidence.
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