(A personal poem to remember power.)

Girl, you are a woman now.

So how will you run when the flood comes?

Life bears down sore and tired.

Deep wounding when you realise,

there is blood on them lies.

Remember, there is no ‘away’.

When the wolf comes prowling;

embracing wildness,

forgiving the lack of learning,

how to feel, how to ask her.

Girl, woman, maybe mother soon.

Raw mystery.

A hundred thousand beating hearts

encircling history.

The pulse before and the whisper after.

How do we run?

Some run only to find

there is nothing real

to run ‘away’ from.

Some remember to

run with the wolves.

We weren't taught how.

We just ran!

Lisa Goodwin 27/7/2016