by M M Carson
The Snow Warrior
Woman came to life on January 20, 2001. She wears a "gown"
of snow white and stands in a circle of loving heart-shaped rocks.
Her heart and eyes are made of heart-shaped rocks, for love beats
within her chest and she wishes to someday see a world that again
understands the meaning of love. In one hand she carries a bouquet
of flowers reminding the world of the beauty of life. In the other
hand, defiantly raised, the wind blows the yellow/purple chemical
injury awareness ribbon in protest of the injustice that surrounds
her life and the life of so many others on the planet. A heart-shaped
pin decorates her red tam similar to the one worn by Che Guevera
when he battled for the rights of his people. Her face and the tears
she sheds, are hidden by the Darth Vader-ish mask she must wear.
She may go down, but she will go down standing up for her rights.
I had lost
my voice a month earlier in another in a string of feeble attempts
to make a bit of much-needed money and was relegated to my home
like a prisoner, who had done nothing wrong, wondering if some semblance
of health would return this time. The news media was abuzz with
stories of the huge amounts of money that would be spent on many
elite parties in Washington, DC, as happens every four years with
the changing of the guard--what a spectacle: the gorgeous ball gowns,
the gourmet food, the pomp, the gaity, the bands, the entertainers,
the hair-dos, the make-up, the spectators waiting for a glance of
the country's "royalty", the security, the closely guarded
protesters. I was overwhelmed with sadness then that my voice cannot
be heard in this country, and wanted to protest also about the conditions
under which I and others have been forced to live, but protest isn't
quite fashionable enough and besides I had no voice and was under
chemically induced "house arrest." I, and the legions
of my fellow sufferers, have lost our right to take part in life.
There are no fancy parties for us, in fact, we cannot attend most
social events. Our diets are highly restricted and we dare not tread
where poisons permeate the air we breathe. A grave injustice looms
over us in the name of progress, as industrial disease has stolen
our lives. They say a country is defined by the way they treat their
marginalized citizens--we are the sad proof of the soul of this
know that many are protesting, won't you join us. Our Snow Warrior
Woman stood bravely against the wind on a mountain top high in New
Mexico, until the sun invited her to become water for the grass.
I, too, may
go down, but I will go down standing up--and, unlike our Snow Warrior
Woman----I won't melt!
M M Carson