I am woman,
my blood a map crafted by
all the strong women that
came before, that fought before.
This copper fuel surges through
my veins, propelling me forward,
compelling me to care.
I follow this map left for me.
It is my guide.
I am my mother’s daughter
and for that I am proud.
She is the original owner
of my hazel eyes through which
I see this world and will it to change.
It is her voice in my head that cries
If he can do it why can’t I?
And it is her actions that
provide me with the answer:
I am sewn from a fabric of equality,
with words as the thread that
mends lives and stitches souls.
When woven into hearts
this thread has the power to free
the tethers tying women’s
feet to the ground so we can
climb to the clouds and capture our dreams.
My cloud is waiting.
I am indebted to all women that fought,
all women that continue to fight.
The torch is now mine and
I will brandish it with the strength
infused by you into my blood.
It will illuminate the path and
serve as a comfort, for the blood
in my body and the torch in my hand
remind me that I am never alone.
My work begins now.
I am continuing this fight
heavy of heart.
Despite all the ground that has been
touched with light, there is still darkness.
Only when there are no more ceilings to shatter,
because we have surpassed every boundary,
explored every frontier and collected jars full
of glittering glass, will the darkness
be eradicated for good.
So I’ll fight.
I am woman,
A tapestry of history,
a slate for the future.
One day, when I have the honor
of passing on my blood,
I hope that it will be an artifact,
rather than a tool,
that the place to which it leads
will have been found and excavated
for its precious treasure.
But if not, I hope to proudly pass
my torch to the next,
knowing that she, too, is dreaming
of following her blood.
That is woman.