So what if 24 hours rain through her, flooded into a bunch of 12 month bundles of storms? So what if she’s barely wet? And who gives a damn if it comes out of her eyes when you’re not looking and dribbles into years and years?
Each break in the heart makes it good inside. Each cheat and mistake makes it sweet and warm. This a woman. This is your woman. She burns from the day she’s born.
You know her. She comes into a room not knowing it wasn’t as bright as when she entered. There’s no darkness when fire’s in you. There’s no coldness that lasts, either. She burns, your woman. She fills up every day, like clockwork, automatically.
Maybe you didn’t recognize her. She was the one that looked at you with humor, with an eye that cut you back and molded you right. In an instant. Maybe you didn’t feel the owner of you as she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to her. She looks so deep she may be looking past you into your future. Her confidence is in the swagger of that hip. She doesn’t even know she carries you with every swing and swang.
Do you know her now? She looks different all the time. She’s small and big all at once and she can be your cat if you back her into a wall. She trusts you completely. And depending on how this day is heating up, she’ll forgive you for awhile. For lessons unlearned and untouched only.
See? That’s her. She smiles. Alot. She loves. Alot. She breaks even more and builds a bigger rage of flames. That’s why she gets brighter, hotter and so much more easy to see.
And if I were you, I’d let her know everyday your not lazy in your tending. She needs only this: protection. To keep the fire lit, to show you the way so you can protect her from whatever’s out to get her. That is your job. And it’s your job to define it and to stop it way before it gets to her. If you fail, she’ll snuff. She’ll have to start all over again.
And so will you.
J must be my sister.
Posted by: Shannon Johnson | May 06, 2008 at 11:53 PM