Radical

Who are My people? 

They are those I seize and shake:

benighted ones whose madness is fertile.

They are those I enfold,

and those I energize,

those I dream,

and those who feel My breath as a caress.

All those who contain within themselves

the void are Mine,

all those who are called womban,

though they avoid their fate. 

Wake to your depths!

And what of men?

There are, among the men who brood,

a special breed who can hatch hope,

pregnant with possibilities,

nurturing in soft dark spaces in themselves

creative seeds of future love

(more precious and resilient yet than sperm!)

men who, beyond the lie of father-power-over,

create the truth

of Friend-Son-Brother-Father-Lover.

As I learn to nurture Myself,

for the benefit of all beings,

I find the Child within Myself,

fatherless, and nurture that child. 

I help My sons to find

within themselves My grace,

My self-respect, blessing the Universe.

I teach them to nurture in themselves

My seed of loving-knowing (Sekpoli)

that glows in all humans

waiting to radiate, liberated, healing,

to the deepest reaches of yearning space.

© Tamara Rasmussen 2018