The Spirit

 
Take this with you, Sister,
be her
in all that she is.

She claims her space
her place,
the Worrier -
owns to it,
faces her,
smiles with her,
holds her tightly
and gives all the goodness in her full cup to her -
her hunger quenched with she, sharing her banquet.
She with the freedom from the expectations of youth,
with the talent for sincere dance,
she with the green fingers that bed deep to nurture internal roots,
she with the voice that joins into rounds, into rhymes, taps her feet to rhythms for relief,
she with the body made for challenge, made of strength, made with necessity,
she with a mind that won't quit, that sinks in hollows yet rises again,
she with a heart that is loyal and pumping -
she who tells herself these truths
so infrequently, too infrequently
hushed upon mountainside, where Red Kites fly overhead,
submerging slowly into cool water,
with abandon,
for she knows
the journey will be long
before she gives and gets this time again.
Yes, in this moment
she, with a mind of the Worrier,
the glory of Woman,
the heart of Human,
the spirit of Gods
is whole.