Inside every woman lies a girl and woe to those who keep her hidden…
I can see the marks of your hard work imprinted on your body. They tell a story of their own. One look and I cannot begin to imagine how you have it together. I can smell the strength, so strong in its radiation, its half-life ten times that silicon.
The rings on your calves talk of much endured labour, worn proudly is your skirt; each powerful brisk stride emphasizing their hardness. Your shirt is ironed to perfection, tucked, not a fiber residing out of place. I imagine, you’d give it one frown and it would disappear. The discipline you exude makes me think of all your days of hard work and nights of prayer, illustrating your will power. Your will is impenetrable for you are decisive.
You’re humble too, yes I see it. I see it in the simple up-do of your hair, I see it in the way you’re modestly dressed. Better yet, your immaculacy is reflected in the intricate but neatly styled hair do. I see capability, nimbleness, and your fingers holding secrets of countless beautiful unappreciated inventions. I suppose, you are not given nearly enough due for your craft.
When you turn, the harsh lines on your face, like a slap in the face, are a reminder of the harsh realities of life. How many things have you seen? I wonder… I am in owe of what you have become for even when many see none, embedded in you is a beauty that faded too quickly for life has been too cruel. The dreams you kept as a youth have been stolen away by many a dark cloud.
Your fight projects in your speech; strong, capable, self-sustaining tone you have even if all you speak is vernacular. I sense the patience- years spent taking care of your own have taught you that not to speak of your undeniable courage. You are as a woman should be. Your culture is present in the way you kneel when speaking to those you know, loyalty engraved so deeply, even your old-fashioned shoes speak of it.
A friend spoke to me, beseeching comfort over the loss of a chess game. His woes, I hearkened, broke down to the sole reason that he lost his queen. Yes his queen, morale lost, game face gone, he was too weak to fight anymore and there gentlemen is the reason why we love our women- phenomenon women. Where they lack strength of muscle they make up for in strength of spirit; so this I dedicate to you- girl, young lady, woman, old lady…
Like a plant that springs too close to the falls you’re both a symbol of vulnerability and fight. You’re vulnerable to the tide and yet you overcome even when it’s hard to- flourishing in the glow of your beauty, modesty and virtue. Above all, you stand with the lord. You are a woman phenomenon woman- she who is spoken of in Proverbs 31.
You have been through it all; deceived by the serpent yet gloriously you endure in your punishment. With a second chance, you emerged as the mother of the Lord Jesus Christ- what an honour befitting. Your influence is like that of no other, made from Adam’s rib you are a helper, a protector just as the ribs protect the heart, the lungs and other vital organs you protect your own.. You have sprung centuries over and over to become a symbol of love, generosity, fertility, good fortune, success and most importantly faith. You are woman, phenomenon woman.
The mother of nations, you are a symbol of perfection. After God created earth form and void, he created something less rigid than earth, water. He later made animal- a creature with more movement and sound; thereafter sprouted plants and they could make food. Then he made man- speech, mobility, and intellect in abundance and then he created you, Eve and God saw that it was good. You are woman, phenomenon woman.