The voices of our foremothers are not lost; 
they're conjoined 
as strong as ligaments
when the rest of the body is torn apart, 
burnt, branded or rain washed, 
beaten, scorned, denied 
and condemned to be forgotten
as our history began with Eve, the snake, 
and the dreadful apple.
We are all part of this sisterhood 
of a violent, and static past 
a crushing finger print 
of blood and sadness
of broken, or missing bones 
never to be healed or mended. This silence
is too much to bear..so is the burden
of all the words, tears and screams that never 
left the domestic space. The world was seen
only through a small window
through distant, foreign eyes, 
through other words that compose 
a stranger language, where feelings
do not come straight from the heart.
But tiny miracles are unfolded by the waves of
an untamed sea; on the shore 
on the sand banks, where shells crack 
and a traveller's leg gets 
tangled in weeds
you can still see their footprints
and the echo of their voice
still lingering in the breeze
revived and poignant, 
but pleasant
yet so familiar
like a chorus of a lost song
which reminds you of childhood, 
the memories you hold dear
or a lullaby mother used to sing to you
just before you went to sleep.
You're older now..Your hands are trembling
and in your voice you find something else-
a strenght that motivates you
above all to carry on the fight, 
as behind a misty veil
a new life springs in the middle 
of the ruins, in the dead of night
where silent witnesses hold their tongues 
in celestial, but stone-like palsy.                
Hi Agatha, Has come back as promised. And more astonished by the incisive accuracy and aptness of each word you select to make poetry. missing bones never to be healed or mended. The silence is too much to bear. So is the burden of all the words Your hint at the infamous story on how god made Eve, from the rib of Adam, is again exquisite: the story is there, planted, to subdue woman. And then, the way you have portrayed domestic violence against women, really wonderful! This is an all-pervading reality, even today.I invite you to read my poem, Enter His Kingdom, in which I have tried to bring in a picture of extreme domestic violence, albeit in a different context. Immensely valuable poem. I would love to come back. Sorry, time for office!
Hi Agatha, A very passionate, focused and truthful write. Some vile heart had invented the story of Eve, The Apple and The Serpent. Got nothing to do with the facts, everybody knows. Even the Church knows. But it is propagated through ages, through generations to intimidate woman and hold them down; hold them responsible for everything evil. Even Pandora was supposedly a woman. But, then it is time for you to raise your heads above your shoulders, to hold it high. This is what I tell my daughter. Hold your head high! Dont be intimidated by hegemony. And then, yes Agatha, New life springs in the middle of ruins! Astonishingly simple statement; but unable to fathom the depth. Your entire poem looks so simple a statement. But well beyond the thinking powers of ordinary men. Congrats. Well done. a 10+++. Shall come back for a re.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just a re today! Just because the poem invites me back whenever i open my laptop.