New Ganga

3 August 2010 – Written at a CLP program in the CHILD Offices in Tamil Nadu

My mom was not safe,

many moms are not safe.

Some make dinner with bruises on their face.

Some cry into their rice. Some cry alone.

Let's take our tears and flow a new river--

a Ganga so strong it moved boulders, mountains

and people to its shoreline, to weep at its banks.

And women and men

would make offerings of change and kindness

and equality and self

rather than red hibiscus and green coconuts

at the froth and sand of her shoreline.

See, I dream of a world

washed clean of violence.

I dream of a world

where the birth of a girl child

is cause for the greatest celebration.