Back To the Basics

There was a motto a few of us shared where I worked for years, "Out think, out play, out last." A motto we lived by in in order to survive in a toxic environment. I learned to play hard, play smart and run to the battle line for for what was right and protecting others when it wasn't my battle.  An unhealthy environment that became a part of my daily life for years.

Operating by male standards, the hardness of the boardroom ... goodbye corporate world.

Time to transition back to being a soft woman. Time to journey back to the basics and reclaim the power of femininity.

My quest begins today.

Somewhere between her home
and a placard of demanding equal rights
she got lost
wandering past the garden
following where the serpent pointed
she turned left instead of right
and got offtrack ...
and though the scenery looked vaguely familiar
a frown of consternation
began to cease her brow
as she realized it was taking her
far too long
to reach her desired destination
still she determined to go
yet another mile
before turning off her chosen path
perhaps she was being too anxious ...
and as she wandered
looking for a marker
to get ther bearings
man wondered where she'd gone
as she ventured too far to hear
his need for her
of her children crying
and they too lost their way
trying to follow her
misled by traces of her perfume in the air
the memory of a gentle touch
and encouraging word ...
a piece of fabric soft to the skin
and sage advice
were found along the path
now littered with confusion
and distrust ...
and as man's shoulders began to slope in resignation
weakening his arms
causing him to abdicate his seat as protector
and her children began to find their own way
allowing new friends of rebellion
to fill the space she left behind
a cry rang out ...
it filled the earth
it reached the skies
and rang throughout the heavens
  "Woman, where art thou?"
        "Woman, where art thou?"
                "Woman, where are thou?"
it echoed off the mountaintops
and stretched across the plains
it descended throughout the valleys
this plaintive cry
mourning the absence
of this precious lost treasure
and she hearing the cry
came to a halt
not quite sure of where she stood
unable to give her location
she turned looking for her own
footprints in the sand
only to find shallow remembrances
of where she had been
and somewhere between her struggles to recall her true identity
and the place of her restoration
she saw visions of a man with sad eyes
longing for her love
praying for her return
and children
with their arms outstretched
crying for her wisdom to save them
but she had grown weary from the journey ...
sadness rooting her to the spot
depression bowing her
into herself
she succumbed to her fatigue
sinking into a fitful sleep ...
and the distance
the ringing of hammers
began hesitantly
building
and building again
until it reverberated
through the land ...
its sharp rhythm piercing the hearts of men
awakening sleeping women
and frustrated children
as wanted signs were posted
by deteremined hands
     in search of the vanishing woman ...
                              - Michelle McKinney Hammond

So I go, back to the basics, the art of being a woman.