Poems on a Theme
ZOELAB 365: DAY 44
To continue on yesterday’s themes, I want to share three poems.
The first is very well known, and written by the spiritual activist and writer, Marianne Williamson, but is often wrongly attributed to Nelson Mandela as part of his inauguration speech. I was first introduced to this poem by one of my acting teachers many years ago. It spoke to a part of me that had never been spoken to before and has inspired me countless times since. The second is a poem I wrote in response to that poem. The title comes from a women’s artist collective and website called Spun Sugar that I initiated many years ago in NYC, but never came to fruition. The third poem is a poem I wrote while in graduate school that dares the other (and myself) to not fall for the illusion (a false self) of disempowerment. The latter two poems became lyrics to songs that are as of yet, unfinished.
I made the drawing above while exploring Jungian theory in graduate school. It depicts the feminine archetype that becomes empowered through her connection with nature. By reclaiming the parts of her that were in shadow: her power/animus (the lion), her groundedness/earthiness (the tree), and her femininity/sexuality (the moon) she becomes an integrated, embodied and empowered woman, and therefore: whole.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Song for a Spun Sugar Sister
Planes go high in the sky,
red-winged red birds pass me by.
But, me on them,
me seeing them
makes me large & upwards &
cross-moving.
makes me Chinese-happy,
& sunshine eyes.
My tragic stomach
flittering,
ticking the blood up to my heart.
Don’t be afraid,
in the smoke-stacked circumference
of a tiny world
on tiny hinges
to be great,
to let out the largeness of you.
Don’t be afraid
to put forth
kind & bouncy words
for those ears you care for.
Don’t be afraid
to talk of your unique bible:
soulful & aesthetic
human & genetic.
Don’t be afraid
within the shameful state of things
to be embarrassed
to hold yourself,
to wink at unseen things.
Cuz it’s not what we can swallow,
but what we can chew-on
that gives us acceleration
and initiation.
So, be large, as Marianne says.
Be huge in your dollhouse
and soon you will see
that even those who’ve made you shrink
will suddenly swell.
Don’t Believe
Don’t believe
this face
this ease
this voice.
Don’t believe
this overt tenderness
which caresses you
and mends
your discomfort
with your presence.
I need for you
not to believe
that this is all I am.
I need for you
to pry me out.
I need for you
to know how I have left me.
That there’s a fierceness inside
that aches.
There’s rhythm
in this body.
But not the rhythm you think.
Don’t believe
My voice you hear.
It’s on top of another thing:
A rumbling.
A torn creature.
A fire.
Listen harder
And be bold with me.
Blood bold.
Don’t believe
my fragile escape.
Even this,
I can fake.
