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Initiation

For every woman who has had to learn to love herself before anyone else...

By Dré ClevelandPublished 5 years ago 4 min read
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Ceremonial drums hum the passage of time.

Four young girls waited... I was fourth in line.

My eyes shut tight, not sure what to expect as I

Followed, hand held by the third girl, careful with every step.

Dark tunnels interrupted by spaces of light led purposefully

To a clearing as the day leaned toward the night.

Despite the length of the journey...

Four young girls left early that morning.

Now mourning the death of their childhood fantasies,

Each girl fading with every potent memory of love without loving,

Bruises without shoving, commitments without working...

Hearts ripped out by jokes without joking.

Smoking incense in the background.

The elders... four women gathered around,

Ready to strip us of our immaturity,

Leaving our soiled garments on the ground.

The first girl stood up, lifted her hands to the sky,

Her first love's name on her lips as she started to cry.

Young love's innocence... the purest experience,

And yet she learned her time wasn't valuable.

He didn't take it serious... but seriously he loved her.

Waiting became her hobby, hours eaten up by vultures.

And, she learned to simmer on the stove's back burner.

The first woman cleansed her and released her from her tears.

She taught her love doesn't wait and it will find the time to be there.

Suddenly the young girl disappeared and a woman stood with grace.

She stepped back amongst the elder four,

And the second girl took her place.

She stood in the middle, her arms stretched wide.

Remembering the year that her soul was crucified... and she cried.

See, she met a guy who easily stole her heart. But he also stole her dignity

And it tore her apart. See, she was not the only one and he let it be known,

Yet she stayed because he loved her, and he had more game than Hasbro.

So... she allowed herself to die... willingly believing the lie as she sat to his right...

and the other girl on his left side.

She learned that she was not worth being the Queen. She was a pawn in the game,

quickly stolen by soul thieves.

The second woman cleansed her and released her from her pain.

She taught her to be strong and take her spirit back, so that she could love again.

The second girl descended and a woman appeared, unscorned.

She then joined the other women, and

It was the third girl's turn to be reborn.

She boldly moved forward and placed her hands upon her womb.

Proud of what came of a commitment made too soon.

She married him... and yes, she loved him but influence made her blind.

She took the oath early and thought it would be fine.

Soon she realized what she'd done as her marriage ripped at the seams,

Leaving her still searching for the love of her dreams.

From that point she learned that love is taken for granted. Love becomes comfortable.

Humans are creatures of habit so nothing becomes new

Complacency stews, true love doesn't exist unless it was born from you.

Well the third woman cleansed her and released her from her guilt.

She taught her to be patient when constructing the house that love builds.

So the third girl vanished, and a woman stood proud.

She was tall amongst the others

And the fourth girl took her ground.

She reached the center, her arms lifeless and limp.

Her eyes still brimming with the sting of the last prick of a thorn's promise

She thought she knew love beyond book knowledge.

That kind of love you couldn't learn from a class or in college.

Only able to comprehend pieces... confused by love's pretense.

Now standing alone afraid she lost her confidence.

Cause love costs more than she is willing to invest.

She learned her dividends are futile when her partner invests less.

Now the fourth woman cleansed her and released her from her solitude.

She taught her love is more than an emotion. It is a statement. An attitude.

She held me in her arms as that little girl passed away.

And a woman hugged her back, ready to love another day.

Four women, eyes closed, now stood amidst the wisdom of their elders.

From first to last, the moon's light, their shelter.

The elders retreated as the drums filled the air.

I opened my eyes to find only I was standing there.

I started to panic but then I could see,

That all four women were a reflection of me.

My initiation complete, I made my way back home.

Though the path was the same, I could tell I had grown.

Stronger than when I'd left, more conscious than before,

I now stand before the threshold of a new unopened door.

The next level of evolvement lies right within my reach,

And I can still hear the lessons those four elders preached.

Love makes the time. It treats you like a Queen.

Love keeps creating. Love says what it means.

Love is more than just a feeling or a decision.

Love is a commitment. It has a purpose. A mission.

Mostly I learned what was always inside.

I deserve love's blessings. I do not deserve to be denied.

Be discerning my love... four women whisper in my ear.

Now, open the door.

Don't worry.

We are still here.

love poems
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About the Creator

Dré Cleveland

I am a writer. It is how I share my voice with the world - mainly because I used to feel like I had no voice. Outside of my writing, I felt like no one was listening. I've grown but I still let my writing speak for me when no other way can.

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