An Ode

To the women in my family,

You are epic poems,
You are run-on sentences with
Only commas and semicolons,
And no periods because you are not done talking and you will make sure they hear you.
To the women in my family
Who will not be confined to the ideology that they need to be docile and fragile
But see that there is power in being soft.

They guide us,

With gentle and sure hands,

And a firm voice that says everything will be alright.
To the women in my family who make time work for them.
Who stretch the 24 hours of the day to make sure they see their child's chorus recital

despite not knowing one word they are singing in English.
To the women in my family whose tongues refuse to assimilate to a language too dull for their colorful.
Whose language always guides them towards home
Whose language reminds them where they're from
And reminds them of what was lost
Hundreds of years ago when colonizers stepped on our sacred lands and claimed it as theirs.
To the women in my family who are a
2 for 1 parent.
Who protect valiantly and love fiercely
Who love for the hearts of 20
In the absence of one.
To the women in my family.
To my ancestors.
Who were princesses and queens.
Teachers and doctors and brilliant women.
Who stood tall, chins up, shoulders back, in the face of adversity.

In the face of machismo

And all of those who told them they were less than.
To the women in my family
To the threads that connect us
In resilience, in solidarity and love.
To the women in my family
Who has taught me well and who will always guide me.

Who have loved me unconditionally

Who have sacrificed and given so much

Without expecting anything in return.

To you, I hope to give eternal happiness,

Rest, comfort,

The whole world, if I can.
Here's to you.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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