I stand on the stage of life, poised to sing a song for womanhood, the crest of creation, for God created her last, not as an afterthought, but as one to be cherished, like the last born of a family.
Like a painter, I see a blank canvas and the portrait yearning to burst into existence, as I sing this melody, a fitting tribute to the female gender. And I dare to ask, ‘From which angle shall the song begin?’
Shall I serenade the one who learns at the start of her life to crawl on the sandy soils of the land where she dwells, decked in her baby attires, while she gazes at maturity and learns the recipes of her local dishes, which she puts to good use?
I see her, this woman of worth, through the eyes of my creative mind. She cultivates at her grandfather’s feet, the customs of the land, on her mother’s knee the secret of winning her husband’s love and from Dad’s wisdom bank comes the courage to rule her world. She shuns illiteracy, discovering and basking in the highest form of knowledge.
She is the godly woman, fitted with a life of purpose, power and purity, armed with a reluctance to hide under the benevolence of others. This woman is not fit for use as an artifact to beautify the walls of a home, with no visible impact; not just a baby machine, programmed to procreate till her glands yell in dissatisfaction. Oh yes, she awaits the arrival of the valiant knight on a white horse, yet she does not sit still in his palace of plenty surrounded by luxury, awaiting the grey hairs and bowing meekly, waiting for death. No! She shuns such a dreary existence. Womanhood is celebrated in places where the godly woman resides. One who is a symbol of virtue; a woman active in mind, alert in comprehension and resourceful in homely duties. This woman is a fountain of intelligence, reflecting good judgment and sound thought, energetic and full of fruitful activity.
Through the artist’s canvas, I see a regal woman with the gait of a queen, perfect of stature, for divinity gave her exquisite finish. An innovative woman, filled with ideas of intellectual strength and a knack for turning old to new. Articulate of speech is this woman, communicating with boldness, releasing the products of a sound mind, drenched in wisdom and exulting in the law of kindness, original and natural.
I think of motherhood as synonymous with this woman of grace and beauty. Like a fruitful vine by the sides of her marital home, she brings to life godly seeds, nurtured to conquer kingdoms. To God whom she owes reverence, she gives accountability, then to her husband, head, lover and friend, to whom she has a responsibility to tend, respect and submit and who adorns her with praises, love and honour unlimited. And to other authority, she is subject to, giving full obedience. Nurturing the potentials she calls from her storehouse of creative treasures, she produces excellent fruits and makes a mark on mankind.
As the footprints of my song fade, I stand fulfilled, examining the perfect portrait that now graces the artist’s canvas. I pray to see her, this great woman, parade portals of distinction in this present world. She is the woman worthy of emulation, for the creator formed the man, said, ‘I can do better,’ and created her, lovely woman of grace. I see her stand tall and confident, proudly human, proudly woman.
