Women


We bear
burdens
inequity
injustice
babies

We share, a collective past of
exposed infants screaming on cold stone hill sides
bound feet
bound breasts
burnings
an unstoppable, indestructible, mutual strength

Woman of grace
Who bears the honored name of Crone
A name I now thirst to learn
to fill my bones with
to wreath my hair with
to celebrate, exalt and revel
to learn one day to
deserve

Woman of honor
in roughly woven cape and hood
I do not know your burden
I cannot offer to help you carry
I cannot offer you shade or
even a place to rest

But as my sisters before me
throughout antiquity
I will not let you bear it alone

See the footsteps in the sand
I will walk beside you



©Edwina Peterson Cross
(For Jane)