As each woman has a voice, she also has access to her own circle of influence. Sometimes holding fast to such freedoms and stepping out in bold confidence are a woman’s most immediate access points. There is power in the hope-filled optimism that resides in such attitudes. Today’s collection attempts to capture the essence of this spirited liveliness.
Here the artist asks us: Are your choices giving you freedom to soar or imprisoning you?
Freedom of Choice by © Rishani Sittampalam
Awake, sleepwalking soul, to the sound of your name as it is called to life.
Sleeping Beauty by © Sybille Sterk
Stay in sync with the little girl inside; keep her alive and thriving.
A Girl Again by © RC deWinter
The day was a gift of vernal beauty,
the open sky powdered with the cottonfluff of clouds
so voluptuously sculpted they surely
serve as pillows for the gods
when evening drops its dusky curtained darkness
over all the tired world.
Thick butterscotchy sunlight washed the sidewalks,
danced on rooftops,
played in backyards,
and the lavish, brooding scent of lilacs
wafted far and wide,
Aeolian banquet for springstarved senses.
Trees besplashed with prism-rainbow blossoms
stolen from a Monet palette
waved their laden arms of green and reached ’cross
wood and wire,
trying to embrace me
as I wandered, solitary but for my canine comrade,
living charm looped with leather to my outstretched
wrist of winter.
Deep in visceral memory hovered the tantalizing hints
of carefree childhood,
struggling to consciousness amid
the feast of springtime spread before my
Remembered days of drowsy dreamlike dozing
in the emerald carpet foolish folk call
began to hypnotize my heart
with unalloyed happiness.
I wish myself a girl again,
a girl again,
a girl –
In the heat of the moment, find that inner strength—it’s there, right next to courage and endurance.
Be Brave by © strawberries
And yes, you most certainly can.
I think I can, I think I can…I know I can by © sandra ellen
I took a train of thought today
an express of no regret
wind blown on the platform
as the whistle blew, we’ve met
my train stopped at all stations
far flung this metaphor
my baggage stowed, I settled back
to close my eyes and snore
yet a constant throng of passengers
meant that this was not to be
so I staggered to the buffet car
for some hos-pit-al-ity
I perched upon a bar stool
to watch the past’ parade
and instead of getting legless
sipped on homemade lemonade
my wits about me I best keep
so to not get into strife
for to trickle out my ramble
is the story of my life
then she came, this vision splendid
sprinkling tease all over me
I grabbed my glass and coaster
and followed her to see
we coupled and lamented why
our travel plans thus far
had kept us on the right tracks
how ‘lucky’ that we are
you see, it’s not about our selflessness
but more of words like mind
so we megaphoned it up and down
that we are all one kind
the trip went on for miles and miles
across the countryside
I gazed out windows clear as mud
till I finally realised
let’s not listen to the rattling wheels
as the journey bumps and grinds
nor compartmentalized experiences
or insitu stick that binds
enjoy the rambling ‘feel good’ scene
as our trip about us flies
embrace the bigger picture
accept discern and rise…
Go ahead: drop kick those obstacles that litter the path to your future destinations, to your place of freedom, to your place of discovery…
Girl Power by © Tam Locke
Even when no one is looking, remember to remain committed to your cause(s).
Joan of Arc by © Kanchan Mahon
Staying true to yourself means keeping your reflection close at hand.
The underside of neath by © su2anne
Reflection you? Or
Just what you
Show? If I could
Scry out and look
Beneath would I
Shadow of mist
Essence self? Your
Spread your wings during every chance that is provided and be ready to see where a new opportunity may lead.
Flight to a Different Future by © ArtPearl
Embrace uncertainty as a means of testing the atmosphere.
limbo by © Cynthia Lund Torroll
I am held
with great uncertainty -
I can be certain.
But even that,
brings immediate light
to its absurdity,
its lack of true form,
clocked I vacillate
between boldness and
permission, between apologies
and mission, between polarity’s
Celebrate the woman within, each and every intricate dimension of her. She is always worth it.
All she has within by © Heather King
And even before the dust of the oppressors settles, rise up and brush yourself off. The road of perseverance has already been paved for you.
I Rise by © Janis Zroback
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.