archives, poetry

The Freedom of Our Daughters. {poetry}

 

Caught in the ages of women, I think of my mother, myself, and my daughter.

I think of my mother and the thoughts that whirled in my head as a child, watching her, trying to piece her together, aching for her to speak.

Knowing the pain she went through growing up, but never hearing herself speak her story until much later in life, as a child, this left me wondering, “What happened that silenced you this way? Why do the words choke in your throat? What am I missing? What can I do to ease your pain?”

For myself, remembering all the times I hunched over, all the times I lowered my head, all the times I too felt my voice catch in my throat as I would try to articulate how I was feeling, and at the same time, feeling as if I was feeling too much. Unsure of what was okay and what was not, afraid to ask, afraid to hold my ground. I was intimidated by power because I felt I had none.

I would find myself in situations where I would give in to whoever I thought could fix the brokenness within me, the void of not being enough, of not knowing who I am. And now, I think of the rising of my Spirit and my wildfire. I think of the women and men who came before me and broke the silence, so that now I may speak words with the intention to be heard.

And for my daughter. The woman in a little girl’s body. The divinity and sacredness of her, and of all the young ones still open and innocent and untouched. I think of them, and I think of our union. I think of what I must do in my life that carries forth the message of her right to create what she loves, and to do it because it fuels her soul, not anyone else’s.

I write this so that she sees the future with her voice in it, her touch, her art of inspiration.

I write so that she may have the courage to ask and be bold in what she believes. So that when faced with opposition, she knows to lean into the wisdom within her. I write this for myself so I continue to do the soul work. I write this for my mother who always knew me, even when I did not know myself.

***

We must speak up.

We must teach our daughters to know their voice.

We must teach them what it feels like to be intimidated and still stand their ground.

We must teach them to see themselves deeply.

Past the superficial bullshit tossed out by the media,

Spewing their vile approach to what it means to be woman all over them.

We must fill their minds with Maya, Great Mother, Rupi, Dr. King, Oprah, Brené, Clarissa.

We must show them that we are rising.

We must tell them about our healing.

We must pray with them in the moments of death and celebration.

We must teach them what the Sacred Life is.

We must envelop them in the rhythm of life,

The dance of the body,

The union of the Soul and the Mind,

The sensual nature of their being.

My goodness,

We must not shame them for bleeding.

We must grapple within ourselves so that we may come to them open.

We must remind them that they are divine,

That in them the womb of life is their center.

That they are connected to an ancient wisdom of femininity, power, peace, and intuition.

We must pour out the truth of our life.

We must make peace with our past.

We must break the shackles tied around our throats

for being too much so they never question

the validity of their voice.

So they know they have words to say,

Works to do,

People to bless,

Organizations to create,

Humanity to heal,

Children to nurse,

Laws to create,

Hands to cut into flesh with,

And words, words to carry them through.

Dear Mothers from all walks of life and precipices of growth,

We must teach them through our freedom and unity with one another.

We must teach them,

We must teach them,

We must whisper in their ears the sweet nectar of Gaia, of God, of Universe, of Light.

***

Cassie Jeans is a woman from Ontario, Canada, intertwined with a Mexican heritage. She writes for the joy of seeing words on paper. Since she could, she has found her voice through her writing. This helps her understand her world better and why she feels so deeply. She is a mother, a wife, a curious creature with a desire to be outdoors connected to the earth. She has a belief in humanity and an innocence in the way she views souls on this planet. Because of her unraveling, she shares her story with the intention of letting others come to the full realization of who they are. Her goal is to bring beauty into this world through her art and inspiring others to do the same.

***

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