Maryrose Nieman Nelson

Transmagination

You wish to squash our dreaming
Dull the shine 
Shove the butterfly back into the cocoon, chase the chick back in the egg and the 
Crocus back into the cracked and frozen earth
throw white paint on the print of the most beautiful sunrise 
Drone out freedom songs, joy ditties, love ballads, peace symphonies 
Tie up dancing feet and twirling wrists, bash body homecomings 
Does our 
dancing
                        dreaming
                                                transmagination
strike a chord deep in the inner-knowing of the 
conservative
                                    greedy 
                                                            power hungry elite? 
Maybe inside of you is some sweet inner child
neglected
                          begging
                                                            yearning
pounding from the prison you have pronounced as her place in things 
she begs for wings but to free the bird in your chest means breaking down the walls you’ve built around your tendermost parts
I hope 
            I pray
                        I dream that 
you may let that sweet child out 
Free her
                        Hold her 
                                                Listen to her, 
so full of yearning and dreaming and believing and, darling,
I know it is terrifying to dig through deepest parts of yourself to let the grief out like a tender bird 
To become your truest self and find peace in the not-knowing you had to do for such a long time 
Ask a trans person
(We know how it feels)
Maybe we have more in common than you think, my dear
It’s never too late to be your truest self.
To let your tendermost parts be held, to hold, to grieve, to weep, to be.