Only a matter of time

I am Earth particles. I am made from mud and dirt. The moist ground from the depth of the mountain, the moss from the forest, dampness.

I am my grandmother’s blood, her hands, skin cracked, bleeding broken from tending the earth. I long to hear her story. I grieve what she could have been if her arms would not be tied to a crippled world. 

I am my grandfather’s sweat that trudged through injustices and wars. I am his anger. I am dark and pain. I am the arrow, gun powder, I am numb. 

I am the strand of a witch’s hair burnt to ash. I am a seed buried long ago, starved of nourishment. I am craving. 

I am the unspoken poetry, the unsung songs of my homeland. 

I am sea salt. If you taste my skin, your mouth will ache with yearning. My skin is bitter. If you touch me long enough, you’ll feel the earth pulsing within me, the rhythmic beating of a drum. 

I am not here to please.

You. You see, I am in love with the dark, my Underworld. I am married to the shadows and promised to dance Them daily into their light. 

I am faithful to the mind of god. 

I am here to birth what remained unspoken, what was burnt, killed, what was silenced in the Women that came before me. 

I am so restless. My calling stirs inside me, rising boiling to surface, it builds it builds.