“Your ability to keep the scouts in check,
And the way you always must have it together,
The way you neither define yourself by the grief you bear, nor the
circumstances that confront you.
You are defined by your own inner strength,
And you always hold your head up high.
So cry when waves of grief surge through your soul Cry,
when their is no where but up and out for pain to go.
It will hold you.”
Someone just told me that in a beautiful dream I just had…surrounded by women who’s circumstances made them teeter on the edge of control and some who, in this balance act found a third anchor of strength, the mysterious soft reins of a woman..she knows her persuasive powers but does not use it for evil rather allows it to draw her one man to herself when he needs to suckle at the rejuvenation that SHE alone does possess, and does not then say, alas..a point scored but lights a lantern and moves her feet a little closer to the inferno that is their unity..burning the life of he and she into ashes of we…she is quiet, even when attacked, for pride has scarred victories..she wins back the name of her man..when he loses it in life’s game…she is indomitable and a mystery created for a mystery..able to hold nations and families together…may the woman in you rise to the occasion…