I am an elder, now
70 years young,
my body changing,
more wrinkles, more gray hair,
muscles less firm, but still strong.
My heart is a brave warrior
still in her prime, fighting the good fight,
making good trouble.
My pen is mighty,
as is my voice,
unflinching in its naming
of all that seeks to promote
genocide, gynocide, racism,
all that seeks to deny justice
undo compassion
eviscerate goodness.
In my seven decades,
I have known sorrow and joy.
I have seen evil and witnessed kindness.
I have loved and been loved in return.
I am a woman seasoned by time
and softened by tenderness.
I have been liberated by truth
and blessed by courage.
I am brave and resilient,
and I will not be silenced.
I am a sovereign human,
not invisible, not demure.
I do not suffer fools
or believe lies.
I am fallible, but honest.
I am bold, but kind.
I am untamed and un-tame-able.
Do not underestimate me
for I am one among millions,
a sisterhood of crones, scooping the world
into our waiting arms,
loving each breath, each step, each day.
We listen to the trees, we sing with the wind,
we surge with the tides, we soar with the birds,
we rise to fight injustice.
We wail our grief, and dance our joy
grateful for the paths we have walked
the memories we have made, the persistence
we have upheld as we continue to resist
all that seeks to erase us.
Be forewarned.
We have seen too much to go back.
We refuse the false stories you have tried to tell us.
We know who we are.
We own our power
and we aren’t afraid to use it.
We are clothed in the battle-tested armor
bequeathed to us by our mothers, our grandmothers,
our great, greats, far back into the ages.
It is their breath that fills our lungs,
their dreams that fuel our hearts,
their losses that quicken our minds
their hopes that spur our actions.
Now, as I become the age they once were,
I know the assignment.
I see the way forward is lit by the past.
I will not falter in my determination,
for I am the daughter of many.
I am the keeper of stories aching to be told.
My mouth is wide open,
as I fill the sky with starry tales
moonlit poems, reclaiming all that was taken.
Daring to speak what was forbidden to be spoken,
emboldened by the moon,
cradled by the planets,
held in the womb of the vast, endless Matriverse.
I am an elder now,
and I wear my crown with dignity, and integrity,
a queen not of realms, but of my own soul.
I seek not to rule over others, but to honor
those who came before me,
to walk hand-in-hand with those here with me now,
and grace the lives of those who will be here
long, long after I am gone.