A Rainy Afternoon and Lessons for a Lifetime

A few white pages with black letters, soft bound;

The lethargic pitter-patter of rain in the background;

A steaming cup of coffee, the aroma in the air;

Me and Eve Ensler, cosying up in a chair;

The first shy, excited look;

Into 'The Vagina Monologues', in my hands, as a book;

What, how, whys, filling my mind;

But she, always knowing, gentle, and kind;

Taking me through, a journey tortuous and wild;

Not for those whose hearts are too mild;

Everything in my heart, and between my legs, discussed;

No words minced, no expressions shushed;

Stories of horror, pain, abuse, and tears;

With a few bright spots of love, affection, and vaginas without fears;

Poems and prose, fact and fiction;

Blending together to create a perfect imperfection;

Stories of the plight of women, violence and gross neglect, and of the murder of choice;

Lessons of love, self-respect, and of respecting the vagina's voice;

Lessons not restricted by gender or color, caste or creed;

Lessons to create in the world, a whole new breed;

Not scared or ashamed, not silent or abused;

Instead, free, loud, and at any violation not the least amused;

So many lessons, from a book, that turned into a friend and a guide;

Took an afternoon of rain, and turned it into an emotional ride;

Read it you must, man or woman;
To know how to get the vagina to speak, while you still can...