She has seen the past
And she wants no part in it,
Glimpses the smallness
That she rejects with every breath
In the relentlessness of
Other people's pessimism.
She does not know what she wants,
Yet,
Only what she doesn't -
Dullness, the fading of
Her name and face.
She was born for glory,
To be a sharp outline against
The backdrop of the rest of them,
And she thinks she's ready
To be literally monumental.
And she finds it does not stop,
That being good enough is never
Good enough,
And that a warrior must learn
To trade and craft
And train, and be placating.
And that sometimes best means
Finding someone better.
But she wages war on the mundane,
Battles bland,
Grabs for grand,
And stands, alone,
The way she always meant to,
Burning, and learning
To take the pain of light.
__________
I was reading about Hatshepsut, the longest-reigning female Pharoah. It's fascinating, especially the way she managed her own legend, but she was also genuinely brilliant, and did an amazing number of things that changed Egypt's fortunes for the better…
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