Saturday, June 9, 2012

Dance of the Woman

What does being a woman mean? What does being a man mean? I've been turning these questions over and over as the Jumping Bean gets older. What do I want him to know about "gender"?*

What happens when you start pondering "gender"?
Here's what happened when I did:

Dance of the Woman
Stepping between rain drops
The fertile come to bear
Whether under an antiseptic showerhead
Or a cloud-baked sky.
We will dance

When I lie forgotten in cooking steam
Swept away by a four bladed fan
Silenced in the clunk of autowash
Deafened by pull of a vacuum
Smiling as the screen sterilizes the children
We are still dancing

I am dancing to the drum
Of low-hanging breasts slapping and swinging
Dancing with my mother’s mother’s mother’s mother
Leaping, wobbling, jumping, swaying
Let loose in a circle of stone
We are dancing

I dance, my sweet boy,
To pull of your lips
The tingling rush of warmth in my breasts
As I feed you the juicy wilds
You know the dance of a woman and
You will dance

*Thank you to my teachers: Bob, Helen, John, and Dee for requesting I read Ivan Illich, Merlin Stone, and  Clarissa Pinkola Estes.