You might call me denigrating names
Names, like sticks and stones
Could break my bones
Yet never truly touch me
Names you would not call
Your mother, sister, wife or daughter
Or maybe, just maybe you would
You could try to hold me back
…or attempt to hold me down
And if by some cosmic twist of fate
Cause the untimely death of me
My voice will remain a reflective echo
Bouncing from me to her, you to me and back again
Carried by a consistent and sacred breeze
My spirit and the strength of who I am
Will saunter with intention and pride
Held boldly with precious regard
Held high by strong feminine arms
Preservation of a united heartbeat
Clarity in our eyes for all our children to see
And every morning bursting into a sunrise
With the remaining burn of a shooting star
The continuous stirring of a lovers last kiss
Tapping into a lingering memory or hell bent angst
Electrifying womanly sentiment of who I am
With resolve remaining faithful
To the words heard in a distant song
Penetrating our thoughts and soul
For nothing less than an eternity
A familiar feeling that washes over the universe
While the world is painfully out of sync
In need of a harmonic balance and gentle bend
Look towards me, reach for me;

I am the Sisterhood

©2018 TrilbyYates