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March 8, 2022

A Maya Angelou Poem for the Women who’ve Forgotten their Wise, Witchy Ways.

 

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Ah, women.

We are divine. We are extraordinary. We are creators of life, of love, of magic.

We hold so much.

But we hold so much back.

We’re taught to “quiet down,” “be a lady,” “don’t be too fat,” “don’t be too thin,” “dress this way,” “no, dress that way,” “smile,” “calm down.”

It’s no wonder why some of our lights don’t shine as bright as they are. They’ve been dimmed.

But our wise, witchy ways are deep within us and that can never be taken. For god’s sake, we’re women.

We are queens, goddesses, remarkable, magical beings who can change the world with the ocean in our eyes and the blaze in our hearts. For god’s sake, we’re women.

We’re not here to impress men or seek their approval. Of course, that’s never what this has been about.

But in case you’re a woman who has forgotten your power, your magic, your all-encompassing beauty, Maya Angelou reminds us best:

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

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