It's cold outside
And yet I'm drawn Into the moon's pure light
I raise my hands; entreating.
Where is your voice grandmother?
My questions tumble together.
I am WOMAN.
What is normal?
What changes should I expect?
When?
Who can I go to?
What should I do?
How do I change?
Why must I be the example
when there is none for me?
Shhhh . . .
Quiet . . .
Stand in the light . . .
Wait . . .
And it comes to me.
WOMAN
Mother
Questioner
Be still.
Hear the answers.
Life is change.
We do what must be done.
We sing.
We dance.
We cry.
We love.
We live.
WE are the grandmothers.
