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Audrey Parker-Balthaser Poem
I am a woman
And I have carried my children
Across the raging waters,
And over the deserts length---
And you dare to tell that me I am not strong.
I have watched my children die
Murdered, innocent in their beds
When I thought them safe,
Taken by those who could not teach
Those who could not reach---
And you dare to tell me
That I am not strong.
I am a woman and I have
Worked the fields with children in toe,
After my man has passed on---
So we all might
Have food & shelter
Come the fall of night---
So the wolf would not
Attack these, my children, after
The light has gone way---
And you dare to tell me
That I am not strong.
You tell me that I cannot have the rights
Of the man who came before me
That I am, somehow, not
Equal to his feats
Because my anatomy
is different than his---
It was a woman that brought
Him into this world---
And you dare to tell me I am not strong.
I have the strength of collective battles
Fought by my maternal ancestors
I have the strength of a woman
who has seen too many years---
years of cold, years of darkness.
I have the strength of a mother
Who has had to bring her children up alone?
I have the strength of a woman---
And you dare to tell me I am not strong!
Copyright © Audrey Parker-Balthaser | Year Posted 2016
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