(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