Prena Poetry

It’s about how the world rests beneath a woman’s feet.

Let me tell you that the women’s body is the only closest thing to the God and the earth. Art in her soul. Sunset in her curves. And a thunderstorm on the tip of her tongue. It’s not about how she sits and talks and smile, daintily obeying the norms of her womanhood. It’s about how the world rests beneath a woman’s feet. How she comes with depths and horizons, softness and toughness at the same time. So she can be rivers; someone pure and perennial. She can be mountains; a place of home and love. From dust to empires, seeds to trees and scars to medicines. That is the wonder of a woman’s body. She is a creator, a lover, a bearer, a giver and so much more that no man has ever been or ever could be.

She is everything and anyone, pure enough to give life and love but also powerful enough to wreck away the world under her feet. She is a woman.


This is us.