A Call to Arms
I won't live a life not loving every inch of me.
I won't go down this road not expressing every aspect of my capricious nature.
So I ask,
Can you handle me?
Can you handle my lust, my rage? My greed and my jealousy?
Can you handle my sweetness, my love? My tenderness and my need?
Will you still be there?
Can you handle my tears, my laughter? My screams and my moans?
Can you handle my destructiveness, my creativity?
Will you create with me?
Can you handle my moodiness, my temper?
Know that, first and foremost, I am a woman.
I am mother earth.
I am the full, unstoppable, and beautifully terrifying force of nature, inspiring wonder, fear, and awe.
I will not be tamed or domesticated.
Like the ocean, I am more wild and powerful and have more depth and beauty than you could ever hope to know or explore.
I'll invite you in.
But be warned.
I am not always nice.
I am the dancing flame, the majestic volcano before and as it blows.
I will burn you.
But I will also inspire you, pull you along, as the stars and the mountains calling for poetry, dance, music, sacrifice.
Can you handle that I'm a real person?
Know that I want it all.
I will have it all.
I will feel everything.
I will be everything,
Will you take this journey with me?
If you can, if you will, then bring it on.
Handle me, but not with care.
No calming words.
No pacifying gestures.
Handle me with passion.
Handle me with truth.
Handle me with love--with a fiery, furious love that challenges as it accepts, inspires as it honors, calls out as it holds.
Handle me for real.
Show me your reality and I'll show you mine.
Give me your ecstasy and I'll give you mine--and freedom, joy, and power besides.
If I am too much for you, I don't blame you.
Raw passion and emotion, especially in women, have been given such disgusting labels.
Don't look back.
Run and find your nice, safe girl or boy.
But come to me if you want--not always a good time, I can't promise that--but a real time, an alive time.
I'm not interested in anything less.