I imagine it must be difficult,

to have a brain so vast,

it accommodates for the likes of the Appalachian mountains,

and all our oceans,

amassed.

 

I imagine it must be difficult,

to prepare feasts for dinner

with the same hands that spring children to full-length adults;

bathing lovely saints

and the cruelest sinners.

 

I imagine it must be difficult –

to be so wise, but looked upon only as porcelain caricatures

with hands that groom seeds to full and plump peaches

ever so gently,

at the right temperatures.

 

I imagine it must be difficult,

to think of the right words to sew your heart and heal

sharing the threads with broken-hearted orphans

your generosity, a full meal.

 

And so I imagine it must be difficult,

to singlehandedly

cut

apart

patriarchy

while washing the bloody pad for the peach between the legs,

lest it drown.

 

I imagine it must be difficult,

to love

and overcome

jealousy, hatred, fear, anger with love

and even more love.

 

I imagine it must be difficult,

to be so strong that it weakens you

just to make more space for more love and strength

by your cries in the night

and your leaping laughter with the rising sun.

 

But the difficult is so liberating and so fulfilling,

that I imagine the world must be a spinning of chants and hymns

of strong women across the globe

singing through the world

in a language that they themselves not know,

that liberates

through

and through.