4 Ben
Red Self-Existing Skywalker
I can almost hear
My Soul walking---
She was crippled---lame
Limping about---
Slouching toward Bethlehem
In Grief and Pain
Separated from Splendor---
Spending Days cramped
In over-crowded Places---
In small guarded Spaces
Now Signs and Symbols shout---
Translating the Unconscious
Into Consciousness---
Crushing the overarching Power
Of the Patriarchy
To miss the Point entirely---
Oh, my waking, walking Soul---my Guide---
Let us prance and dance with Ease
Like a fat elm in a strong Breeze---
My Heart beats to the Rhythm of your Stride.
©Kleomichele Leeds
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