Why the World Doesn’t End – for International Women’s Day 2019

This poem, written several years ago, is an attempt, although inadequate, to pay tribute to the women in my life who have shown me how to live on this earth. But also, it’s in honour of all who inhabit the feminine soul, that spirit of resiliency with its desire to create and nurture beauty in spite of life’s loss and pain.

Why the World Doesn’t End

I know a woman who says,
joy is a drink that always spills.
But she carries on, when at dawn,
her plans are scattered
by a cold dry wind.
I know another woman
who fought a large machine,
was bloodied, but stayed true to her terms.
I know a woman whose teeth
—biblical promise notwithstanding—
were set on violent edge from sour grapes
eaten by her own parents.
I know more than one woman,
whose trust was twisted
by the double-bind of a paternal God.
I know a woman
whose words keep the soil mellow
and bring blossoms to wild currant bushes.
One woman I know paints
sun-raked ponds and stargrass,
evokes the songs of wind on canvas.
I know a woman who pours wisdom
into teachers’ teacups,
and understanding,
into the cupped hands of children.
One woman I know carries on by the comfort
she spreads—hush your mind,
and you can hear her sing an ocean.
I know one woman who lives
under a foot of frozen pain,
waiting, against the pressed fist
of permafrost.

And when the world’s asleep,
I’ve seen these women gather,
arm in arm,
at the water’s edge of hope and sorrow,
open their mouths,
and let the moon
shine down their throats.