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I Wrestled with an Angel
Poem by Erlinda Perlado-Mertens
What story do I want to tell?
What stories do I have?
It’s a long arduous journey.
And I am not there yet.
A path from the unknown to knowing
I only know I am different.
I wondered from the beginning
I am five.
I am conscious of a Presence.
Like the wind moving through the bamboo forest, unseen yet alive
I am like any girl, and yet inside
I know I am different.
I dreamed of Grandfather Jacob
who wrestled with the angel
through the long night.
And the angels climb the ladder
to heaven and down again ---
a bridge between earth and sky.
In my blood another memory stirs.
The memory of the Babaylan priestess,
Women of spirit
Who stood between the worlds,
And the Asog
Queer men priest who wore the sacred cloth.
They too know the Presence
They too listened to the good spirits moving in the trees.
I wrestled with an angel too.
So tell me--- who am I?
I stood on a hill
by the weeping willow tree
overlooking the playground,
watching the children
I stood there in deep quiet.
Tell me who I am.
I am different.
I tried to fit in.
But inside ---
a deep quiet knowing.
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