(I apologize if your email has been cluttered with various versions of this. Technical and creative issues plagued the muse this morning)
Her body is not young-
but oh, it is radiant.
Each wrinkle, a silver thread
In a tapestry woven with joy,
Unhidden years well-spent
in laughter’s warm embrace.
Her scars tell pieces of her stories –
Whispers of daring,
leaps taken,
hearts risked,
moments fully lived.
Her belly-
once a sanctuary for souls-
now stirs with a quieter but still fierce power:
the space to hold herself,
her own becoming,
at last.
Breasts, now bowing to Earth’s gentle grace,
beautiful in their softness,
in what they once gave,
and now simply are,
comfort and peace.
She is led by the divine flame
quiet at her center-
a love that listens,
that moves her feet with grace and knowing.
Her loved ones inscribe her soul,
and she, in turn, writes on their hearts,
exchanging gentle truths and fierce devotion,
each mark sacred,
a story shared, a spirit shaped.
She walks without asking.
She chooses for herself.
Each step is hers alone-
no longer seeking permission,
only direction…
And yet she walks with…
who honors the darkness
while still seeking the light,
who craves both joy and soft shelter,
whose heart blooms
with compassion,
wild empathy,
and quiet strength.
And in this fierce openness,
this calm, hard-won knowing,
she is more desired than ever.
Not for what she hides,
but for all that she dares to show.
Honored flesh and memory,
holy in her wholeness,
and finally-
free.
And she is not done-
not even close.
There are wild gardens yet to plant,
new trails to press her feet into,
a thousand kisses she has not given,
and times she will enter
with plans tucked beneath her smile
and a future that bends
to the sounds of her footsteps.
She is…
To be continued
.
Hello Butterfly! 