We are weaving a new way, Stitching revolutions together,
Spinning new worlds from our Wombs,
Dreaming back the wild edges of our Souls,
Calling forth that what has been lost.
We are women of the Womb, Maddened by love into action,
We are men of the heart, Softened into surrender,
Afraid only of not feeling.
We are thinking in a web, Your thread holds mine together.
We are taleweavers and troubadours,
Telling the words that were broken,
Singing the songs of longing.
We are weaving a new way, Using the thread of pain,
Spinning it back into gold.
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