At the beginning of the Transgender journey there used to be much more uncertainty than there is now. My feelings and terrors came upon me in a small country town and since I had never heard of anyone like me I thought I was Lesbian. And did so until sometime as late as 1995 0r early 1996 when I had my first relationship and discovered that yes, I loved women but no not as a woman. I wrote this down for all of us at Acceptance in late February 1998.
Yet some breath left in this old year
Some space still, to write upon this blackboard of life.
Before the brush of the New Year sweeps all, clean again
The dear deeds, and thoughts of this year’s world.
Whatever precious things, the darling ones of our mind or limbs-
Have yet a small space longer to be, as they are, until the universal gale blows everything away
The most darling things and dear ones, too-
Soon will cling to this year’s edge like honey on a spoon
And drip and drop upon the new bread of tomorrow.
There we will be waiting to gather her in, scoop him up-
into the arms of our love for one more year –
Breathing in the New Year may still be painful
For lungs punctured by the hate and fear of time gone by.
Yet let our breaths measured be and all the pain be gain!
For the good God within us has made us for the bow.
We are his sign that this reign of pain shall cease!
Fully human and fully alive our gay and lesbian souls have
Written indelibly upon the blackboard of time, words forever read!
‘In the image and likeness of God She made us.
She called us to hold faithfully each one the other
And to go forth and multiply – love, joy and peace’.
With the last breath of this old years, I write in this small space –
I am man. In my love of man for man, from out of that climatic gap
‘tween body, soul and mind our desires release a new star to be-
I am woman. There is no other place I’d rather be than right upon, inside,
Above, below, her,
And when we are beside ourselves our passion flowers to shower heaven and earth with
new born angels.
And the honey, sweetness of our world thickens to smother tomorrow’s daily bread.
Br Andrew's Muses 