You sit by the stairs
Your child rests in bed
The day is done
You have outdone yourself again
At least a thousand invisible tasks
Fall behind each woman who has a family
Silent service
Baggy eyes, pale skin
Loving, fierce mother heart
Beating deep within

Then, you boil some water
Inner birth about to be
The green henna fills the kitchen
The scent of Earth is everywhere
You are so tired that a grateful
Apreciation comes through your eyes
onto life
No matter what happenned
Or didn’t happen
As stillness takes the house
Turning it into a home, a nest
Into the night

Pour some gold olive oil
Dry and oily complement
And remember:
All about the dark small olive is pure gold

Stirr well: henna, olive oil, boiling water
The wooden spoon turns red
Listen, hear well
This is the time to mother yourself
So you can be a source again by morning

Let the mix cool down
Apply gently to hair and scalp
As you cover the bathroom
in beautiful clay
Remember: even mess can be beautiful
In the end of the day

Cover your head with a cloth
Feel the rootedness coming through
Your head is heavy with henna paste
Your weight gets grounded
Onto Earth, path, home, direction

Wait at least one hour
If you don’t know how
Sing and create prayers that suit
And voice what you live, feel, need, dream
For yourself, others, Earth
Have some warm soup
Or a cup of tea
Allow yourself to be nourished
By whatever simplicity surrounds you

Thousands of women since the dawn
Of times
Have birthed themselves
Through the simple cerimony
Of henna
In the silence of their homes
Alone or in sister’s arms

Remove and rest
Now let life guide you
And do the rest