I Am From

A friend was seeking writing prompts for the month of January. I gave her the following: Into what community were you born and how were you received, and by whom? I am looking into some family history, particularly my great grandmother Mamie Pearce King who was a Baptist missionary on an Arapaho Indian reservation. This poem came as a result of reading a poem in her scrapbook titled "Women of God" by E. Rinehart *. The poem was written at the turn of the century. The photo is Mamie Pearce King about 1912 after typhoid fever.

I was born into a circle of writers:
Virginia, Sappho, Emily…
through a dream, they welcomed me,
called me to pick up the pen.

I was born of Nancy, variant of Ann,
Hebrew for Grace, a wife, a daughter, a duty
Nancy, marked by devotion to man.
I was born of a woman, intent.

I was born to a circle of grandmothers,
Grace, Mary, Mamie, and Carol Joy.
Born of a virtue, a virgin, a missionary, and a song,
how sweet the sound traversing years, calling me, calling me.

I was born from Women of God, in mission fields,
circuit riders, sisters, lighthouse
keepers of the Word, stars of the sea,
Mary May, ever enduring, Mamie, she.

Mother may I, too, be called,
be merry, brisk and blithe, defined
as mirthful in the sun of righteousness, 

shining away from secrecy and shame.


Women of God, of uncertain origin,
mothers of mine, calling me.
Be swift to go, the doors are open wide.
The times are full of promise, so

follow the flow of the tide
sail out on the deep, broad seas
let your heart be brave, mothers sing to me
A mighty work is waiting.*

I was born of divine women, adored
virtuous, star women, original women
women derived, I am a woman wishing
light, song, joie de vivre, a woman wishing

fearless response to her call, I am
a woman intent on wishing you,
a woman, a new definition,
wishing you, a woman, a new name.

How shall I call you?