Abstract Thoughts, Dealing with Humanity

To Become A Woman

A poem I wrote while observing my little sister go through the loud parts of puberty. I mean to speak to those who are witness to the growth of others – especially teenagers. How it fills the observer with love, worry, and awe to watch someone become their own full self. 

Sarah Nicholson

Let me speak of my worry,
I mean my sister.

Why must it be such a violent rattling?
A chaotic string of points
barely connected enough
to call it life.

This is how it feels.
The process of condensing the clusters of youth
into the star’s heart of adulthood.

From that infinite nebula
of child consciousness
Must emerge an essence. A world.
Bit by bit the pieces collide and stick.
Patterns, beliefs, habits.
They ignite and rage in fire

Quicker now things snowball.
Will we all be pulled in?
Just hold on hold on,
It’s almost over.

Soon the surface will cool,
The heart will stabilize
and she will be inhabitable.

Your eyes are lined so dark to protect your secret.
But I know that you have discovered our ancient power.
You have seen the rays that shine
When you open your eyes.
Suddenly there is rhythm to your steps.
Everything you do sings a song,
And men are listening.

Please stay safe.
There will be bruises and bumps in this process,
I know.

But do not bury your eyes in that liner
so that they are covered beyond change.
Keep sight of that nebula from which you were born
and remember that you are not only a mass of painful lava.
You are a star.
In a universe of stars.

Your beauty is a truss
in the structure of all things.
You belong here, hold a place here, have value
and must show up to interlace and support.
To exist.

You take up space and you paint the sky.
We see you
and welcome you
Dear Esther.