They didn't know the power they had,
To heal the wounds their forefathers inflicted.
Only some of them saw,
How deeply we were raw.
The women stood silently,
Waiting for a sign,
That the masculine divine,
Would see the light and shine.
Until then we will love them,
All the parts they cannot see.
And we'll water and grow them,
Deep within the mystery.
No matter how hard it is,
To stay soft and open,
Whats harder is the hardness,
Let it break, for we have chosen.