- Books, Literature, and Writing
IN THE GLOW OF WOMANHOOD...we are warmed.
In The Glow Of Womanhood.
I first noted it in my mothers eyes,
when I told her "I wuv you mom",
and then again when she was pregnant
with my sister, and my brother.
She had such an aurora of
some inexplicable joy about her.
I saw it again in the
eyes of the girl
who shared my first kiss,
and I was deeply moved
as well as hardened by it's spark
when I entered my first lover's flesh
and her half closed eyes
glimmered like stardust and moonbeams.
I saw it once
in the spirit of a girl,
walking across the campus of a college,
where students had died while protesting the war.
I was there to create a memorial design
for the fallen, and she just appeared
in the middle of that field near me,
and then vanished just as quickly,
after softly saying "Hi",
and then simply nodding
at me with a strange iridescent
look of gratitiude in her eyes.
I have spotted it often in
the eyes of my female students,
when I've told them their art was wonderful,
boys kinda shrug it off, and smile a bit,
but girls light up like a candelabra,
when praise is given to their dreams,
painted or sketched on paper.
I have seen it on the faces of mothers,
breast feeding their babies in public places.
I saw it sadly fade in
my dying mother's eyes
as she passed to the other side
and I could swear it's warmth lit up the room
and brought great comfort, as her soul departed.
It was vibrant in the eyes of nurses
who tended me after being repaired,
reflecting much kindness and caring
for my wounded flesh
It is found so strongly in the eyes,
and around the faces of Nuns.
whose dark habits accentuate the glow
of holiness around them.
I am sure Jesus mother
glowed the brightest
of all women ever,
when she bore the world's messiah.
It leaps in the tiny eyes of tots,
as they dance in Tu-Tu's
to the lilting music of the masters.
It is also captured,
in the endless tears of grieving
by mother's and wives,
when their cherished ones die,
in distant wars,
then a bit of their glow goes
in flows from their bodies,
that accompany the souls
of their precious who
perished far too soon.
I will see it in the eyes of my love
when they close for the last time,
I will watch it fade like a dying flame,
and kiss each of her eyelids as my tears too,
bleed out some of the glow she left in me.
You see, Women carry life...
they carry the torch for mankind,
passing it on to all generations,
women carry the spark of life
and they bring it to terms
that may be why they glow
at the many special times
that fate is empowered to grant them.
They make us all aware
of what diamonds
in the rough they are
perfected by the pressures
of life and it's hardships
which is why so often
a gleam emerges
from their very
flesh and eyes
and leaves us
all in awe.