WoMaNTRa

I am grown
I am soft skin
firm bones
flesh smooth
fruit food
moon times

music
cello lines
poetry for

Healer
sister
dancer
prayer
trier

she tries again
she dies inside
and lives again
I am all this
I forget then
remember my name

Like a riddle
middle star
mystery

She speaks many
languages
whispers
quiet words
shouts to the
cathedral
leaps
from her pedestal
crawls
from her own
wounds
and stands up again

When she cries
she sings
in the pain she survives
joy she brings
Like many women
I’m many things

curved line
fly free

Dreams
Means
Good intentions
No is an answer
Yes is a mantra
I don’t need a man for

I’m my own birthday celebration
I’m my own Independence day
I’m my own cry freedom
I’m my own Valentine heart

I’ve been called Princess
I’ve been called whore
I only answer to
my own name any more

Man
Don’t come crawling
Don’t try and stand over me
Look me in the eye and
stand beside me

In dreams
answers

these are my wings
I’m a woman and
this is my
womantra
matisse paint
©AS

WoMaNTRa poem by Anna Savage
with Music by Adrian Northover and Harvir Sahota

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