To Face the Sun

 

If I expanded

Then I had to contract. 

As inevitable as is the seasons of change, 

  Too, 

I might lose form

 Only to birth another. 

As the love in me is great, 

  So must I retreat

To restore. 

They keep telling me I am man. 

Man must be moved. 

But I am woman. 

I am the connector of The Great Spirit, 

  And through me, 

It is received. 

I am Woman. 

  Perhaps to be moved is not my destiny. 

For I have realized the grace beckoning 

  as all stillness calls me. 

Fine tuned, I must fine tune 

Honed in, I must hone. 

There was a Great Wall, 

  blocking such a destiny; 

Made brick and layered 

  of all the attached memories 

Coalesced into a unioned force field. 

As I had hammered at it, and chiseled 

It hadn't occurred to me yet

Or then 

That all I had to do was walk away. 

I did not have to worry about it, 

  or make it mine to conquer. 

I did not have to read the engravings, etched in time, on the wall

I had but simply renounce it...

As was it serving me, 

  to spend my life here facing this stone...

When all I might do, 

  Is turn and take the road East, 

Walking into the Sun, 

and back no longer and for so long 

Turned against it?