Spring's Secret Garden

Soft

Long curls,
Shields my thoughts and dreams.

Carefully picked-out earrings,
Sentries to the loudspeakers to my soul
Deaf audience to the happy, heart-breaking words, conversations.

Mascara-ed eyes
Windows to a soul that has seen much, felt much, endured much.

A pretty flower brooch,
Over a heart that seeks to be compassionate in a selfish world.

Flowing dresses and floral skirts
On a body whose limits I test daily

High stiletto heels,
Shoes on my feet, I bought it.
I can walk a mile further than you in them,
So don't think you can push me around.

A soft-spoken manner
Whispers sometimes cut deeper than shouts
Magnifies the contrast when I raise my voice.

Gentleness,
A mask for my stubbornness and determination.

Feminism,
A soft cloak of iron.

Am I soft?
I don't think so.

Dreamt on Sunday, May 6, 2007; 6:22 AM 0 Comments