Pope Joan
Goddess spoke through her,
God joined the conversation,
Refused to be imprisoned in
Wifeliness, housework, slavery,
Isolation,
A wise glow of
Femininity,
Dressed in
Masculinity,
Internal radiance
Of light
When light was dimmed,
Unshaken on
The precipice of defeat,
Vatican unknowingly
Welcomed her with
The highest rank;
A healer whose
Hands extended to
The underprivileged and the unfortunate,
A short life
Of
An eternal legacy.
A flower - never had a chance to be fruit,
Yet,
Will never wilt.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
Added by Poetry Lover
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