If reduced to a hieroglyph
How would someone translate me
A thousand years from now?
like a sauce in a very expensive French restaurant.
They might say, “Oui, she is a reduction
Of daughter, mother, lover,
sister, partner, friend.”
“She simmered into them
year after year.”
Or they might say,
“She had seen the deepest valleys
Where wings were clipped
And tongues were silenced.
Flight was improbable
But not impossible…for her…
She often came to Red Sea places
Where danger lurked behind every smile.
When there was no way out, no way back
She found a road straight through.
Fear was irrelevant….
She did not expect angels to carry her.
She fashioned her own wings
From brick walls that crumbled
Before her will.”
They might say,
“After so much work
So much training
She hit the target with her arrow.
She swam faster than a dolphin.
And ran across the finish line…
…Like a star…
She became a hero
Not because she wanted to be
She had no choice.”
They might ask,
“Was her blood, her flesh, bones and muscle,
formed by a cloud of dust and gases?
Did her strength spring forth
in the final days of a massive star’s existence
before it ripped itself to pieces
….like a Supernova?
“Her light outshines the galaxies
She radiates more energy than the sun.
And People gather to her.
She lifts and guides,
If someone asks you, where did she come from?
Answer them this,
“She came from the stars.
A thousand years from now,
That’s where she will be.”
~Arica Hilton, March 2017