By Mac Guerreiro
Who am eye?
Eye’m a lady of many words,
Eye’m a daughter of Father Sun and Mother Moon,
Eye’m a gentle soul,
With a fierce spirit,
Eye’m like you,
Eye can be delicate as a flower,
And destructive as a bomb,
Someday eye hope to be a mom,
Who am eye?
Eye’m the girl you might see on the street and wonder,
“Why did she smile at me?”
It’s because eye like to smile at everybody,
Eye’m the girl who’s afraid to say what must be said,
And says it anyway,
Eye used to be afraid of death,
Now eye embrace her dearly,
She’s a part of life,
She’s a part of me,
Eye’m a woman whom honors the sacred,
The transitions made on this planet,
The energy shared with my lover,
Eye’m a witch,
A femme who hails from a line of holy ones,
No priests,
Though Eye’m sure of them there were some,
But rather the wise women,
Whose knowledge of herbs knew no bounds,
Whose prayers shook dimensions without making a sound,
The women who communed with the trees,
They’re all inside me,
So who am eye after all?
To be real,
Eye really don’t know.
Mystical Mac 