This poem is written for those sisters of mine who live ignominiously, in terror and poverty and wretched rejection and loneliness, who cannot write as I do because they do not have my privilege and power and position.
And for my sisters and brothers at Haden.

What is your essence?
Where does it come from?
The process comes from within,
of course, but
what are the rules and processes?

My life has been a struggle.
I have sought the answers,
without knowing the questions.
Almost autistic, at best a space cadet,
because I had a secret.

I was a girl. But I looked like a boy.

Shadow figures came to my rescue.
They did the best they could.
But my soul knew better,
and my heart suffered.

Enter the goddesses.
They came in dreams, in meditation,
in new found emotions, in hypnosis.
The goddesses are the prophets,
of the Divine Feminine.
They taught me so much.
They told me there was a joyful way out,
of the prison that was my world.
They said they were there to take me home.

My maker was pleased.

At this miraculous moment I returned to Haden,
and it was there my life began.
My life’s essence was built from straw,
given a second chance in existentialism,
But it was birthed in truth and clarity and joy,
in the release of my womanhood,
by the goddesses.

I tell my woman friends,
never take your wondrous graces and gifts for granted.
They are too precious.
And let us love and laugh and dance and sing.