Me llaman

Las Mujeres me llaman

en una voz familiar

voz que mueva inquieto

uniendo la pluma a la pagina

llevando las manos al trabajo

la lengua a la guerra crucial

Es la lucha de todo

Watched an incredibly moving documentary tonight.

On the practice of forced marriage for very young girls.

Their bodies are not their own.

India, Niger, Guatemala. Many faces; one fight.

Young girls and women are voiceless, everywhere.

There is work to be done. Now.

I must work.

In the words of the always relevant Ms. Jordan*:

"I cherish the mercy and the grace of women's work. But I know there is new work we must undertake as well: that new work will make defeat detestable to us. That new women's work will mean we will not die trying to standup: we will live that way: standing up.

I came too late to help my mother to her feet.

By way of everlasting thanks to all of the women who have helped me to stay alive I am working never to be late again."

*This is an excerpt from "Many Rivers to Cross" by June Jordan. If Interested in the complete essay I can recite it to you in it's entirety, from memory.