Dark Veils Parted

Women in burkas in the desert sands,
victims of the Taliban or at least
what I’ve been told, clothed in mystery,
it is impossible to see their eyes,
smiles or facial expressions.
Are they beautiful? I’ll never know.

I’m reminded of a distant time
when my elementary school was run
by Irish nuns, all dressed in black
except for their serene faces
framed in heart shaped habits
wearing a crucifix , large rosary
and a wedding band.

What is it about religious attitudes
that insists women be covered in black
hidden from the world offering service
but ensconced out of sight
their voices can be heard, like a flock
of chirping birds, their songs
an assembly of angels locked away

and when veils are parted what is revealed?
A woman, like any woman, uncertain about life
and how she fits it, needing the protection
of a strong male clan, seeking approval
from a male god, hoping to produce a male son,
so the line of his blood continues
for another generation,

and if she is a nun she is committed
to that male god, married to his son
her service and everything she has to offer
is his before the veils are torn asunder.

Clans of women, however strong,
are bullied by throngs of men
who use their testosterone to
bring them under control

I like to pretend, that all things being equal,
will allow eventual freedom for all women
but so far that hasn’t been the case
women are tolerated if they are beautiful
but know their place, and understand…
when the time comes will not show their face

but instead be burdened
with the perfect body image,
off balance in high heel shoes,
covered in make-up and designer clothes
never free to express themselves
at their highest potential.