I Think of Women

I think of women,
Ancestors of my sisterhood,
Centuries before my birth,
How they were oppressed and suppressed,
For their sex, race or ideals,

I think of women,
Who struggled with class infirmities,
Whom were called crazy,
Branded witches or harlots,
For their desire to be independent,

Those stifled out by society,
Those hushed by authority,
Artists and dreamers alike,
How would I have faired in their era?
Without permission to write,

Without being heard,
Or able to express my emotions,
No acceptance,
Because they were different,
For I am as different as they,

I think of women,
All those who fought for rights,
To be allowed to voice opinions,
To become doctors, soldiers, poets,
To have the choice to marry or not,

All those fervent ladies filled with hope,
Captured by their destiny,
Enslaved to their passions,
And dared to ask for more,
Than what solidarity would permit,

I thank them,

For I may vote,
Whisper, shout or take lovers,
Read and write,
Profess and confess,
Make music,

I may learn and strive,
Rant openly and survive,
Choose to conform or not,
Share my wisdom,
And thoughts,

Their bravery engrained in me,
As though we share the same blood,
The same mother and father,
For we embody the same history,
And their gift was this future,

Embedded in who I am,
The ability to speak my mind,
To resist or accept time,
When I experience my life's freedoms,
I think of women.