Thoughts from a Thinking Girl

On the occasion of the Seattle Womxn’s March Jan 21, 2017

You ask me to walk in silence
hold my tongue
wait
just a little longer
and still
a little longer
maybe four years.

 
I’ve waited it out that long before
with one who regularly came unhinged
unglued
undone
unapologetic
rageful and dangerously arrogant
who wouldn’t step down
wouldn’t walk away
so it was up to me
to gather my community
and walk.

 
This is a march I know
miles of pavement
under gray skies
the threat of cold rain
protesting for truths
so basic it is absurd to write them down
more absurd to yell them
to ears closed and stone-hardened.

 
No one held a sign for these fundamentals:

Night follows day
Life is finite
Perception is not truth
The world does not belong to anyone

 
I have so many truths I wish you would hear

gendered truths
maternal truths
poetic truths
Midwestern truths
middle-aged truths
tired and hungry truths
sated and energized truths
truths so beautiful that tears run down my face
truths so ugly I cannot look another in the eye

and yet
none of these messages
letter-blocked
and glitter-painted
waved high on a sign
amid all who walk
would capture the essence of
what I never seem to say
even when a moment of voice
is offered:

 
I am miniscule
born of dust and water
sinew and bone
cells and sensations
blood and beliefs
soon to return to dust.

 
Each life is small
our time dwindling.

 
My aliveness takes nothing away from you.

 
There is enough joy and sorrow to go around
enough sunlight to warm my face and yours
enough moonlight to weave a bedtime tale
that softly settles your children and mine
in peaceful slumber.

 
May we live side by side
in this one and only life.

 
This is my sign.
This is my march.