A stone settleS in my throat
from the long ago of
when children were seen
Not to be heard
Sitting around the Thanksgiving
table of abundance and belly full.
All the voices to be heard took
the air out of the room
We found our breath
in the light of the Kitchen away from
the weight of stories of futures
that had no relevance to our playground
of untapped dreams and magic.
We were but the reflection
of Family’s prayers and hopes
in the right to story us as they deemed fit
into what they could never be only
in their hopes and dreams.
and how the should of us
got should on.
The stone became a river pebble
as years came in to self awakening,
in the wandering and the wondering
where truth could flow and be shared
and the myth of who should be what
and who should be where in the familial
It came slow to dissolve
into the intent of self-resolve.
The claiming proclamation of;
I am not that story you gave me
I am not that silenced voice of your making
I am a voice rising in my fullness.
I am All that I am and you can not should me.
The stone is a clear crystal amplification
of Sovereignty Out loud in the Queendom of self
The illuminated voice of chanting in union with Love
and the proclamation of fearless intent to Be heard
in the Complex ease and hard softness of claiming
all and every word that needs saying.
I amplify in the Stillness of All that I am
I am a crystal clear voice of paradox
I am Sacred in all my Creative forms
I am she Who Speaks her truth Out Loud.