Her Story

“Believe it or not, it has always been called ‘history’ because it has been man’s story to tell. Read ‘The Second Sex’ by Simone de Beauvoir for a clearer understanding of our version of a woman’s story to tell: Herstory’.” –JSK

Listen to everything my pastor never told me:

In the beginning was the World, and there was God.

Over the waters roved His spirit, called She;

She said “let there be,” and there was All.

The rivers from the mountains flowed, nourishing the plants and sea.

The land there was with animals filled, and clouds covered it all.

Birds and beasts, the fishes and geese with the Sun and Moon for hue.

From the dust, man was made to rule over all that was yet made.

Everything God had created was called “good,” but God thought “I should do better.”

Man; higher than the angels, free of will, but not quite a lead.

To every creature, man gave a name but in none found he a partner;

Not one utterly fit to be more than a meeting of needs.

God saw the world was good, yet He knew She would make it better, for earth needed a mother.

Man was put to sleep, hence he knows not how her story began.

A story untold of her glorious birth; not from clay, but ribs.

Everything better than good.

With hands of grace, everything She touches turns to gold.

Curves of perfection, with room kind enough to birth nations.

Words of compassion, speaking light into darkness. 

When God said let there be light, She was the light He spoke of; the great He thought of;

A secret for the world to ponder on; 

A gift to Creation, a mother.

With the world asleep, He made HER; He created a warrior.

She was with Him in the beginning; His reflection and creation. 

She moved upon the deep, down in the depths of nothingness; 

Yet She was life itself.

A companion to Man yet a companion to self; 

In Her, perfection was found, 

Though he named everything there was before Her, 

She named everything thereafter, for in his slumber She was awake. 

While he slept, She prayed, 

God knew without Her, man was nothing at all.

So, sorry my pastor never told me the story of Her might. 

The mother of the world, the artist who creates life from Her thigh, the voice in the dark. 

Sorry he never preached the message of Her birth; 

The significance of Her life nor glorified her entry into this world; 

But today you know Her Story.

Today you know, 

Although God created everything good, without Her nothing would have been great.

Authored by Joshua S. Kulah & Beulah Nimene

Featured Picture by Michelangelo Buonarroti

This and other pieces of poetry will be performed at “A Night of Poetry with Beulah Nimene” under the theme ‘Chronicles of Womanhood’ on Saturday, July 20, 2019 at the Royal Grand Hotel Rooftop Bar (The Livingroom). Funds generated at the event would be used to further the education of underprivileged children. Tickets will be *affordably* sold at the door.

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