Gentle you go now.
Gentle you grow now.
Nurse the wounded places but make them not the comfort for even healing can become a vice.
Practice quiet.
Find a meeting place between heart and stillness where one speaks in lulling tongues and the other attends in loving presence.
Bring all your willingness to the journey ahead.
Leave nothing that matters but take so little that your pilgrimage always feels light.
Cry in the language that all others mourn.
Help them to their feet from where you yourself have fallen.
Calm the fear that causes the scarcity,
That causes the theft,
That causes the abandonment of all possibility and know the words you speak now breathe life into lungs long after yours have been left.
Hide seeds in your hair,
Damp earth in your pockets and light within your heart so you never forget the ability you have to feed yourself.
Create a cleft,
A deep chasm from where you are now and from whom you no longer want to be.
Make it so you can never go back,
Burning the bridges and brushing the sand behind you and find shelter first.
Beside the water that flows downstream towards your passion,
No thirst will befall upon you when you drink from the well that your own hands had to bore.
There's light ahead.
Go steady now,
Go quiet and make mendings along the way,
Create hurt into tools and wisdoms into amulets that you offer to others,
Never lesser for the giving but enriched by it.
Weary will become the woman who seeks relentlessly to find her way home,
But engendered is the one who knows she never left and just needed some time to consciously fall apart.