History tried to silence her. Strike her down. Steal her identity. An anonymous woman kneels, refusing to melt.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Visual Art Contest.
Stolen
More by Amalie@kua
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The Destiny of Eden
We stood at the entrance of a new age.
Past a garden of all we had ever known,
We found the gate.
Past what we were meant to know and created to be.
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We Cannot Be Stopped
She wrote until her fingers carved groves in the silence and spoiled the blankness before. Then, she turned to each surface left unwrote and sang. The birch trees wept as she tore back the bark to reveal stories beneath.
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Echoes of You
I await you in the open grass–
The rolling plains roam my mind
Dark-swept winds ride the horizon–
Damp with the promises you left unanswered
Comments
I came here to speak on the mastery of snow here as a legitimate medium, for this is so much more than a snow(wo)man -- it is a true work of art -- but I want to say that your caption adds another layer to the sculpture as well. I can see and interpret her, now, in the empowered way you speak of. Her little belly and bellybutton make me smile, too!
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