A Young Woman’s Hair

Each strand glistened in sheer beauty

Each lock and curl bounced as she walked down the street

This was her mare, embodiment

of her lioness femininity

A cry to the world that she could and

Did, work on something, protect it

And see it live, breathe and grow

She lived in the 1800s, amidst the Industrial Revolution-

Bathed in the Ganges with hopes of ablution-

She cried for her son’s blood, wet in

The snow of that wintry Boston Civil War

Hid in the blouse of a geisha in Japan, a woman

half scarred

Eyes brightened up, the first Mongolian

Girl in her village to learn to read

Hopped in the fields of Dakota, planting a

pumpkin seed.

This girl, this woman, this delicate creature of God

Her hair showed the world what could not a nod

A symbol of acquiescence to male passion and greed

To this she was a witness, a reluctant even, at times,

accomplice, why didn’t she pay heed?

She did, of course

And reexamined her strand

She took her locks and, simultaneously,

her soul by the hand

and asked it, gently, why it sought to be

the center of her life, or

merely a symbol of her personality?

Was insecurity, purposelessness or

ennui she was a victim of?

Indeed, no cause had she to live life for authentically

And walk determinedly towards

Her inner nature had submitted to her Creator, always

She knew He was watching, truly

Thus, find she did truth and beauty in

Loving His Oneness, His Mercy

And Perfect Qualities

As she praised Him, she let go of the world which

constantly brought her to her knees

Escaping from her meager worries, she found her dignity

Awash the shores of real femininity, leaving behind the mountains of superficial disparities

She found her status, honor and worthy self-esteem from the One who created her free

from society, but eternally bound to His blessed slavery

A cause worth living for, it was meant to be

Throughout humanity’s beginning, from the ages of Adam and Eve

still relevant in corporate-run-to-soccer-mom-duties, our 21st century

Her hair

Her locks became longer, thicker and shinier

Beaming with purpose and purposefulness, completely

Now tucked in a Hijaab, a transformation inside to out

A marvelous embodiment of her new found true strength

and womanly essence.

A young woman’s hair, not for society, but for God to see.