Enduring

I have pursued happiness
like any woman enduring patriarchy;
men shaking their heads in disapproval.

The source of my private redemption
is the recurrence of song
and in a private voice
that often serves
females of the tribe so well.

However, I am marked by my pleasure.
I am radiant with laughter and a smile
that does not allow me to hide--
does not make me eligible for initiation
into the silences or the suffering
of the mute mothers of my lineage.

The Spirit of Holiness
stirs in my belly.  I am confused
and saved by angels and winged creatures
who lift me up like a storm around the body--
glowing and frantic for a place to find rest.

This place of rest
is strong as my grandmothers,
open as a ripe flower,
and as peaceful as our people
who walk away from all the weapons
and every tear in the fabric
of all we have ever made.