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Pull up your skirt and jump, Aurora
You are not a child of fear
Let the hems carry dirt
Singe the frills into melted matte
It’s not your pretty they will hear
 
Eat to your heart’s content
And let them call you fat
It’s your words that are potent
Not your jiggles
Seize what is yours, carpe diem -esque
While they’re stuck on giggles
You are waging peace on war, Buddha – esque
 
Liberating memories
Unchaining propensities
Writing un-sung her stories
Performing love eulogies
You are a child of possibilities
 
Conceived in the sweaty thrust of passion
Birthed in a bloody mess – of life giving
And so for the scattered blood
You avenge with – love living
Through the invisible umbilical cord
That connects you to the fire still burning
In your great grandmother’s graved heart
 
Ask the Oracle
You will carry the flag of compassion
And wield it between tectonic plates in friction
Entice them to mould into one
And lick back building tsunamis
Tornadoes will bow down to your melody in words
Cascading down your warrior tongue
Where Goddesses pray and dance
In a prophecy of looming shifts
 
You will shift and transform
Hate avalanches
Blood hurricanes
And marinate their lingering whispers
In a ravishing symphony of post-ego potential
Wrap their doubt in layers of visibility
And douse mistrust in a fire of ” we”
Till their heartily singing indivisibility
So pull your skirt up and jump, Aurora
Much awaits you
Beyond the fabricated panorama.
~ Billene Seyoum Woldeyes (Aug/2012)
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Love & Light