How fantastical and stymied is she?
Tidal waves break before calm shores
Destroying villages that beat to her heart.
To lay to waste the fields of seeds
Sown by her own hand with love and tenderness
Throwing her fingers to the sky lights
And the wild wind exploding in her hair
Wild lights dancing with wonder through her blood
The luminosity of life shines through her pores
But her own jubilated dance leads her oft to familiar ground
Memories of pain and betrayal lace her tears
And her feet dance on hot and cracked ground
Barren of life.
She can run.
She can curse the land that robbed her of life
Suffocated the seeds of love she had sown
And cut her tender soles as she longed for a place to rest them.
But she may not run… this time.
She may bend her ear to the heavens and rejoice!
For the desolate land before her may yet yield a new crop
She may sow a new seed and it may soak up the acidic soil and make new baskets of nourishment.
Her soul can lead her anywhere
And it knows where to go,
If only she will listen
If only she will still her raging seas and dazzle on the water.
For now she is a woman. And her choice is her own
She loves you and if you will weather her storm
She will alight within you her fiery grace
And feed you delicacies that your heart has only imagined.
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