Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table
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Like the proverbial phoenix, from her ashes she arose
What would you call such a woman – Kali, Durga or more?
Bathed in translucence, from the fire that burned within,
She stepped off of her pyre and breathed in her strength.
He thought he had slain her for she had lain prone
But he forgot even Ahalya had arisen from the stone.
With every measure of her being, calling valor from within
She rose up from the embers, fiercely resolved to win.
Her tribe of sisters awaited, patient in their state;
She went forth on her path, approached with measured gait.
Raising her arms high, she embraced destiny’s call.
She encircled fate in her palms and held it in enthrall.
She cried, “Sister’s I am reborn, I beat the ire of man.
Time has bowed to my resolve, I pledge myself to you, my clan.”
“It would take one million of him to make even a single you,”
Chanted her sisters together & sky high their voices grew.
They held hands and emerged, into the world anew;
Burgeoning in numbers they grew, much more than just a few.
The time was now ripe, to make their voice heard;
And deep into man’s world, they cleaved a fjord.
They charted a course deep, into the heart of mankind;
They sailed the turgid waters, resolute and of one mind.
They had arisen, these maidens, from the bowels of the earth;
It was time to tell man, their essence was more than just the hearth.
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