At night,
sometimes,
when She has laid aside her armor of Faith
and her sword of Truth,
the Diva Warrior cries.
She cries tears of power
which heal the world
from the inside out:
a storm of clearing,
heaving sobs which Voice
the desires of every Being
ever proclaimed
Voiceless.
She looks that Great Lie
square in the eye,
the innocent one that, sly,
whispers
"It's not okay to be us today"
the one that takes Our Voice away,
and She cries
I AM WARRIOR hear me ROOOOAAAAAAARR!!
When S/he does,
though most vulnerable and unarmed,
She knows She is most powerful.
For the forest goes silent,
the night animals still in mid-step,
to acknowledge the Spirit heard
which is their own.
And when She sleeps, exhausted,
She thanks What Made Her
that, in crying for all the world,
She lives the deepest, strongest song of All.
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