Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Women of Wit and Wisdom

I'm basking in the wisdom of a woman we has adopted me;
She and I have always enjoyed each others company.
The knowledge she passes on, she learned at her mother's knee;
As she shares it all with me, she insists I remain debt free.

Her wisdom is much like that that I gleaned from my mothers,
But she is not embarrassed that I'm not like many others.
Perhaps it's that she isn't related to me by blood,
That she doesn't seem to find my ways rude or crude.

We laugh and cry together, as if we're both in our nineties;
This equal sharing seems to, both of us, equally please.
Today she called me her best friend; there is nothing more blessed
Than to find friendship with one who pretends to love me best.

I know that my time with her is, by nature, limited to a few years;
I want to soak up as much of her spirit as possible while she's here.
I hope this intensity of attention doesn't endanger her affection,
As I have already, through my intensity, created much rejection.

It is simply that I want to share all the wisdom and wit of women
That I have been so privileged to call my own good friends.
I want to sing the songs of women who think they're only average,
And pass their sacred stories of greatness on from age to age.

Sing the songs of loving mothers, nursemaids, singers, and cooks.
Sing the songs of teachers who explain what we can't learn from books.
Sing the songs of laundresses and of prophetic storytellers.
Sing the songs of our men who honor the home dwellers.

We must write new chapters of our own sacred scriptures,
The every day lessons we've learned without religious strictures.
We must tell our children and theirs our own experience in truth;
Only then will we be able to relax and have faith in our youth.