Rising - a poem of yeast and life

I saw the action of my life
as a tiny yeast, rising,
breathing hope to dense humanity.

Humble and unseen,
my breath makes pockets in the gluten
of this loaf.

It multiplies,
stretches further still
the skin of possibility.

All of us together, breathing,
rising,
filling the mountains with hope.

God,
when the firing time is nigh,
and we flee, invisible, rising
up to Thee,

May our work be perfect
in Thy sight:
May it nourish all humanity.


gg murray

October 7, 2009
Dear Eleanor Smeal,

As a grandmother, a feminist, and an abortion rights advocate, two events have coincided to alert me to a powerful opportunity to change the direction and dynamics of the abortion debate in America.

Last night my husband and I attended a lecture by Michael Nagler, founder of Peace and Conflict Studies Program at UC Berkeley. As he described the work of Gandhi, I realized the courage and tenacity it requires to change deeply held social customs, attitudes, and laws. It takes real people standing up publicly for what is right, not hiding behind others, hoping things get better.

And then today, your letter came in the mail, in the aftermath of the murder of Dr. George Tiller, in Kansas.

I think it is time for we women who have had abortions to come out publicly and tell our stories. We can make a difference, I am sure of it. By speaking our painful truth, quietly, with no need to argue, we will be heard.

Above is a possible design for posters to be carried, buttons to be worn, T-shirts to be printed. I favor a choice of background colors, to match the feeling of our stories.

Speaking truth to fear,

Gail Murray