Holy Liberation: Julia Fehrenbacher
by Julia Fehrenbacher
I will declare it out loud—decidedly,
mightily, quietly, steadily, with the kind of fire
that burns through all
but the truest things.
I will howl it to the wild midnight
moon. I will say it silently
to the darkest part of night.
I will gather up the flame, the fury,
every fear and fallen warrior, the tiny, afraid,
who kept getting knocked down
and forgot only her own legs
could lift her back up.
I will whisper to her in the night:
You are a warrior.
Look at how far you’ve come. You never
needed to be anything other.
I will tell her, over and over
again that I am ready to be, that I will forever
be her greatest believer. I will promise
her with my pinky.
With a fierceness
only liberation can muster, I will hush
each voice that makes me feel anything less
I will declare, claim, reclaim
as many times as it take:
With a roar that quakes and shakes
the whole sleeping world awake,
I will stake my flag to the ground.
I will be a soldier for my own rising heart.
It will be the most epic