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ne° things

Women, of ne°nymus

From where I am,
on the threshold of my existence,
I look back and feel thousands of women,
foremothers mine,
who had to give birth to a daughter or a son,
fruit of her womb,
so that I can be now.

A fragile chain of strong women
that they laughed at,
they cried,
they loved,
they sung,
they shouted out,
they dreamed of,
they vivid.

To them,
and you,
my humble song.


Small sketch of the musical piece "Women".


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