Women

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Behind the Veil

Who hides behind the veil concealed?

Smoky eyes gaze outward, holding secrets inward.

Told this wrap of modesty brings protection, shielding her from harm.

Does she relish her curtained cloak? Discern no other resplendence?

Is she proud to shroud her personage? Joyfully submitting?

Out of sight- buried, is she relegated to infinitesimal nothingness?

Or does she dream of casting off her grave clothes?

Her silent reverie of becoming all she was meant to be:

Not hidden, transparent, unique with value, joining others in communion.

Does she long to be free?

To see face to face - to speak heart to heart?

Does she know the One who tore the Holy Veil?

Inviting, calling, drawing her into His embrace

Does she know she is His treasure?

Or does she accept she is nothing?

Who is this woman whose freedoms are stripped without her acquiescence?

Who is she, whose husband walks beside in western dress, blending in, assimilated?

Who is she, whose daughters skip and dance around her?

Does she remember how it felt to be young and free?

Does she grieve that they will wear the veil,
jailed behind its power,
controlling their perceptions,
limiting their identity,
hiding their true worth?

Does she see me, as I peer behind the veil again, searching, aching to connect?

She looks away when I smile.

Does she know my heart cries out for God’s love to captivate, then free her?

Who is this woman behind the veil; this is our sister.

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