Our Matron Nature

One can barely control

Thought
Life

Let alone

Dreams

Twice more we

Dream
Talk
Feel
Cry
Hug

than men.

His design
Smothered the earth
With her love

If the world ran wild
Along maternal lines
Would there be twice less

War
Loneliness
Homeless
Hunger
Orphans?

There is passion in the making
Of love and war
There is pride in the taking
Of power and appearances
(What purpose is the peacock?)

Our nurture
Eternally felt

Hurt
Blame
Shame
Disdain

Our nature
Tragically felt

Just as strong
As love

Created and redeemed
Overthrown and unseen
Hidden self…
God knows

Yet loves
So, do I?

For Kate..

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