WomanA Poem by SojournerThere is no word for her that stands seperate, he-she, he-her, man-woman, male-female. In the beginning it takes two. According to rough vernacular, he plows and plants, she is earth-mother.
However, he is but an instant.
Then, it is her secret within, to kindle and cup fragile tha-thump, tha-thump, feel the stretch of awakening, to agonize and birth; to agonize again and again, beside but alone again in darkness, until the door slams.
Yes, it takes two to strike sparks, but only one to cradle the fire. © 2008 SojournerReviews
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4 Reviews Added on July 14, 2008 AuthorSojournerStamford, NEAboutAge 61. Mother. Wife. Regional correspondent for a daily newspaper. Closet flower child with some Yuppie tendencies. Poet. Writer of short stories. Animal lover. Beader-jewelry creator. crafter. Mento.. more..Writing
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