I Am Remarkable

I am remarkable,
the very fabric of creation, an ecstatic vibration, the womb of life.
Much more than flesh and blood:
I am a soul, made up of billion-year stardust, the stuff of dreams,
sweat and tears, and you at the touch of a button.

I am remarkable: Mother Earth is where I belong, every single inch of it.
Living, breathing resilience, all muscles and brains,
Opening the door to the world, only to get it slammed in my face.
I am remarkable: the alpha and the omega, daughter, friend, therapist, lover, mother,
Fierce warrior, strong woman, squeamish girl,
Laughing and crying, putting myself out there.

I am remarkable: my body is only mine, and I won’t apologise for doing what I want,
for not needing a man, for seeking orgasm, for knowing the secrets of herbs, love spells, and mathematical theorems.
I know men are half-formed things: beneath their tough appearance, they are still afraid of the dark, of sleeping alone,
Of not being able to win a woman’s heart.

I am remarkable: as a guest in a bachelors’ house, what struck me was not the toilet seat being always up,
but the cobwebs in the bedrooms’ corner, the lack of care, the blood on cooked eggs.
I am remarkable: written off as a prude, as a slut, the world tells me I’ll be forever stuck in a rut, but I won’t.
Century-old wisdom resides in my body, shakes my soul, moves my very core.

I am remarkable: all that was, and forever will be; I rise up and smile.
Treated unfairly, battered by rain and high winds,
I am still standing.
I am remarkable: giving you life, not revealing my power, embracing this mystery, I am like a solid oak.
Too long silenced and judged, I am not afraid to talk for all sisters everywhere.

I am remarkable: and if you don’t see it, it’s because you are blinded by my light.
I am remarkable.

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