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January 17, 2018

It started when Adam blamed Eve,
deemed her the sole doer of misdeeds;
and now as women we scream! We scream!
For the truth buried beneath fantasy!
For the sake of untold stories!
For the life of the soundless trees!
For all kinds of sentient beings!
We scream! We scream!
For the unheard, the unseen!
The rivers damned, the acidic seas!
The creatures lost, the casualties,
the ones we’ll never get the chance to know we need!
Ah we bleed! We bleed!
All too well we know this theme.
Can’t you see? The nature of our very being?
To bare the essence of life’s esteem!
But greed, this greed!
This God forsaken greed of greeds!
Has made our minds turn from streams
to factories, and false needs!
To lifestyle magazines —
lifestyle magazines printed upon the very air we breathe!
Do we know nothing of Life Supreme?
Can’t we read? Behind the scenes?

It’s time to care for the sacred seed,
for all the beings beneath our feet
suffocating, gasping for shreds of sanctity.
Oh Eve! We scream! What has happened to humanity?
Oh give us a reason to believe
that our daughters may live to see!
Live to be.
Live to be.
Live to be
more than just a commodity!
Sweet daughter of forestry!
Worthy as far as the eye can see,
way beyond these heavy feet!
A horizon beyond the swaying sea,
walk on water, then you’ll see:
she’s royalty, a fractal of purity,
keeper of prophecy,
winds under beating wings
trying to outrun the machinery,
she’s the songs of the ancestral queens,
of birds of bees,
sweeter than the sweetest honey,
she’s the song whose dance
brings us to our knees
prostrate before
the Source of all things.

But this song has turned
it’s started to ring
louder and louder
We scream! We scream!
Hurricanes! Earthquakes! Devastating!
A drum banging!
A bomb dropping!
Blood falling!
Breath leaving!
Fields once green transposed to money.
We scream! We scream!
When did life become property?
When did life cease to mean reality?
A Sovereign Being?
Who is He and He is She and She is Thee —
Bearer of all the things I need.
When did we forget to bow down at Her feet?
When did we forget God too is below our feet?
To kiss the land upon which we dream.
To fall to our knees.
And Scream!
And Scream!
And Scream to Thee!
Infinite apologies.
For misguided tendencies.
For digging our hands far too deep.
For trying to define Mystery!
Majesty! Mastery! Oh take pity on we!
Forgive us for this fever dream!
Raising our Mother’s temper two degrees!
Forgive us, please!
I scream. I scream.
Oh God, my Love, have mercy.
There’s not enough air it seems.
To express these fumbling apologies,
for doing all we could to blindly believe
that the weight of this world ought to be put on Eve.


Hannah Arin is a junior at Pitzer College pursuing a double major in religious studies and philosophy.

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