Deep, deep down in my entrails,
I am aching
Something is squeezing, writhing, turning and crying
out to be listened to
Listen I do, as I have no choice
neglected by generations of mothers, grandmothers, great grandmothers…
the repressed voice of woman now rebels
from deep, deep down in my entrails…
I am responsible…
For it is rising up in me, crying out to be heard
To be felt, acknowledged and healed
So past and present may finally find peace…deep within
Pregnant, this universal gash, that lies waiting to be born
Must express at last…its rage
Nothing can stand in its way
Like the waves of an angry sea, it rises…
From deep, deep down in my entrails
It shakes my being,
So profoundly guarded, secret and denied
No choice but to shine a light into the dark
Homeland triggers the wound
Like a pistol to the heart,
Running so hard for so long
No more escaping, fleeing, hiding
Secrets cannot be guarded for eternity
Today they have risen
From deep inside my entrails
The past is born
I feel its pressure
Building up waiting to be expressed
Released, set free
So I too can finally be unleashed
The rage is the awakening
It impulses the birth
Of owning my own sadness
Of broken daughters, silent mothers…
Sorrow weakens the wrath and
Takes hold of my body,
The grief of betrayal seethes
Through my veins…
Facing the deep sadness
To die a death and
Rip away the cord that imprisons…
reveals a treasure
And so I learn to feel
to let go of the old and
With the darkness of the moon
I step into my future…softly !
Cathy Skipper 
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