Some times, a meek bird will drown
while wading in the open sea,
but not because it couldn't fly away.

It will simply, underestimate the power
of its wings, in the midst of a storm.

How funny it is that when you describe a girl you call her pretty, call her beautiful, call her gorgeous.

Our girls grow up with the only compliments they receive to be ones remarking their bodies and yet we wonder why we can't get them to eat.

They grow up believing wither consciously or unconscious they are judges by the bodies.

That the size of their jeans is their caste.  

That if they aren't pretty they are nothing.

Our little girls slather on the makeup and step into their heels smile till the corners of their mouths crack as if life was a beauty pageant and success and happiness were prizes to be won.

When you describe a boy you call his strong, call him tough, call him powerful.

Put the weight of the world in his hands and hope he can handle it.

Our men lead the way and our girls follow.

Why when you see a girl you never call her intelligent, call her resourceful, call her powerful.

Imagine a world where little girls weren't just bodies.

They were the daughters of destiny and the friends of fate.

They could do anything, and they were told that from the second they could listen.

Imagine if our girls could look past their bodies, could pus aside shame and hate and learn to love the vessels.

Imagine if our girls were powerful.

They try to knock me down
Shatter me into a million pieces
As many times as there are stars
In the vast universe
I am strong.

You are wrong, they say
I am Copernicus.
The sun is the center of the universe,
No matter how powerful I may be
I am Wegener.
The earth has always been
drifting apart
Much like your narrow minded logic
I am Semmelweis.
Wash your hands
But the blood on your hands
Will remain until the end of time
I am strong.

They underestimate me,
You are nothing but a speck of dust
No, no
I am capable.
I am an achiever.
I am strong.

every star in the night sky
wishes to kiss me in gold dust

every rough body of ocean
wishes to wash over me in healing salt

every rose bush, blooming or wilting
wishes for me to tend to their roots

my hands do not falter,
for my golden heart
never runs out of gleaming currency

my voice cuts through the silence,
the dagger in my hand is sheathed
in a white dress and red lipstick

my home, a well-built powerhouse
stands on dark rocks,
overlooking an indigo sea at twilight.

the ocean is alive, her heart beats in the echoing crash against the basalt slabs

the ocean is a creature,
she lives in the daylight
soaking up the sun

she hunts at night, to fill her belly
and sleeps when she's full

the ocean dresses in greens and greys and blues and blacks

she's always changing clothes

the ocean gives and takes away
life, homes, and joy

the ocean is more powerful than man can fathom

with her mighty swells and crashing waves

the rumbles of the tempest and the chaos in her depths

the ocean is alive, and her heart is hard

the ocean is a creature, a beautiful one
do not underestimate her

the ocean is green and gray and blue and black
and she will swallow you up

the ocean gives and takes away
but she rarely shows mercy

the ocean is sister to mother earth
and paralleled in power

the ocean is a force
and she will not be tamed

you have met the ocean, now
but you still do not know her

swim in her depths and meet her creatures

but don't be the one to fill her belly