
Photo by Mary Saracino
My heart is heavy
sorrow is rooted in my cells
I weep, remembering what they did to my
great, great, great grandmothers
burned them at the stake of dogma
to silence their voices
erase their uterine knowledge
control their lives,
eliminate their sovereignty over
body, mind, spirit.
And now, this, in the 21st century,
the inquisition
returns to eviscerate us again.
I howl at the moon,
at the stars, the sky,
the astonished
faces of my sisters.
We weep together.
A dirge erupts from our
open, wailing mouths,
our eyes burn bright
with rage, with grief.
The trees offer solace,
the birds sing
bearing gifts for my weary soul,
providing guidance
in these troubling times.
They console us, telling us to
remember our power;
they cannot kill us all, they affirm,
even though they will try.
There is strength in resistance
there is power in our numbers.
In sisterhood, we must never
forget that we have a right
to love, to live, to thrive
to overthrow all that oppresses us.
Together.
Forever.
We must trouble the troubled waters
and wade through the roiling storm
Meet Mago Contributor, Mary Saracino – Return to Mago E*Magazine
Oh Mary this one is a beauty and so poignant – I identify with every word – love your work – thank you
Beautifully said, Mary.