What Women Are Made Of
We traveled together, we who wanted to know,
found the cave of belonging in the elevations
that hold the beginning of time.
And when we approached,
the glow from a fire
that has burned through plagues and plunder
pulled us into its light
and our hands reached for each other’s
and we circled the answer
of What Women Are Made Of:
explosions that scattered star stuff,
the cool stone of moons,
longitudes and latitudes, mapped and uncharted,
yearning tides, volcanic ash —
womb magic born of womb magic born of womb magic
— full-ribbed and able,
the Temple of Feminine Articulation rose
from the darkest waters,
from the hum of Earth Love,
evolutions of desire for a widening hearth
and a warless tomorrow.