the woman.
she’s soft and young and impressionable.
the woman.
she’s kind and compassionate and beautiful.
the air she breathes
curtsies at her feet.
the happiness she bears
makes her complete.
the feathers in her long hair.
the eyelashes on her innocent face.
the fire blazing
inside of her heart.
the pathways inhabiting
her brain.
the woman hides
from the storm.
the rain falls on her back
and never apologizes.
the moon carefully watching
her smile form.
the woman runs from danger.
the danger dissipates into the atmosphere.
the pinecones shivering at the close call.
the woman dances in soggy puddles.
bathes her body in a stream
that touches her skin rhythmically.
the woman takes flight with the birds.
swooping above forest lines.
the woman rests when it comes a time.
she lets her rapid heart slow.
she tames her impulses
and lets her truth grow.
the woman shoots arrows as the sun rises.
she begs for warmth.
she feels her heart fill
with love and with caution.
the woman often strays beyond the path.
she explores the rocks, the twigs, the earth.
she breathes sweetly.
her arms flap freely.
the woman finds a crystal in the woods.
she shelters it from the beastly wolves.
holds it in her palms.
allows its full form to sprout.
encourages its struggles
repeats sweet phrases.
the woman lays down
with the body she tends to.
she lets the world
fill her with whatever it may.
no matter the consequence.
the woman sings as the river rushes.
she watches the moon sink beneath
the horizon.
she’s the kind of woman i wish to be.