Me was in a trance. She stared endlessly into the basin before her. The waves were dancing. The wind pushed their powerful energy into the shore. She did not notice that the tide had now surrounded her as she sat in its bosom. The wind dried her tears as they fell.
Her eyes did not flicker. Her face was tense. Her shoulders were erect and frozen. She felt numb. Though her mind was vacant, the world was rushing around her…words were coming from all directions. Not kind words, but words that made her feel insecure, anxious and self-doubting. They were fictitious words. They were not her words. They were words that society chose to use in defining who she was.
She began to recognize that just being born a girl created numerous involuntary definitions of who she was. She would love the color pink not blue. She would be treated as fragile not strong. Her toys would be dolls not trucks. Her first dress up would include leggings and a dress not pants and a bow tie. From the moment outside of Mama’s womb, the chaotic confusion would begin. Once gendered, society would announce the foundation of who she was. As her life conditions unfolded…white…black…rich…poor…pretty…ugly…smart…dumb…society would begin to cultivate and massage its definition of who Me was to become. As she continued to listen to the world of fictitious words that circled her, Me became paralyzed. Her body could not move as the tide continued to embrace her deeper into its grasp.
Weeks had gone by since her last visit with Melody. That too made her anxious and unsettled. Me was spending more and more time reflecting on the words and stories that Melody had spoken. She was beginning to see a message in Melody’s words. Though Melody’s stories exhausted her, she would listen more intently the next time…oh how she yearned for a next time.
Melody…Melody…Where are you my Melody?
Freedom was on top of the bluff enjoying the bounty of grass that lay at his feet. Last night’s rain created a refreshing fragrance in the air as well as nourished the morsels that now entered his body.
As he lifted his head to take a breath of the windswept air, he saw Me motionless sitting in the tide that was making its evening visit onto shore. As he watched, Me continued to not make a move. The tide persisted to embrace her. He began to feel uneasiness. He was acutely aware of Me’s unsettledness. He also knew that this was her journey. He could not interfere. His thoughts took him back to when he journeyed. Filling the “Naked Slate“ was a very courageous passage. Very few were aware of it. Even fewer were successful completing it. He moved his body closer to the bluff’s edge knowing he could be by her side momentarily if need be. Being half mule and half horse had its benefits. Freedom perked his huge ears. He was not allowing her out of his site as he sniffed the cool brisk air. Softly he heard her words.
Melody…Melody…Where are you my Melody?
My ghost in me... 