Chapter 1: The Hour of a Woman
She breathes the steam
in and out
the solace of focus.
Only a few breathes will do.
Her mind busies to her lists, her tasks,
the things she must accomplish in her day.
Every hour accounted for
Every minute, prized
Wash her hair – check
Shave her legs – nah
Dog to vet
Kid to swimming
Meal plan
Work project
Need milk
Send email
Load in the dryer
The balance, the juggle,
the plan ahead,
plot, predict and prevent.
A day’s work
in every sixty minutes.
The Hour of a Woman
Chapter 2: The Flower of a Woman
Don’t forget to water her
Nurture her
Dig the soil
Aim the sunshine.
Fertilize, perhaps,
or maybe not.
The faucet’s water,
infused with blood,
trickles down her legs
like the cherry tide of the moon.
Liberating just to let it run
unrestricted, uncontrolled,
brazen and beautiful,
straight from the source,
the gateway to growth,
the muscle of might,
The Flower of a Woman
Chapter 3: The Cower of a Woman
Eyes stinging,
red and puffy.
It’s the safest place to let go
Tears blend
with rivers down her body.
The warmth runs out,
water runs cold.
Still,
she finds comfort in the cascade.
Watching the drain,
waiting for her inadequacies to circle.
Sits down, knees up,
arms wrapped around,
gripping herself,
holding on,
head down,
as small as can be.
The Cower of a Woman
Chapter 4: The Power of a Woman
She hums a tune,
under steady stream.
Lips turned into a smile,
or not.
Doesn’t matter in here.
Doesn’t matter out there either.
What matters to her
is that today she is impactful,
capable, competent,
impressive even.
That she weaves compassion
into every interaction.
That she is taken seriously.
That she uses her skills,
the ones she’s worked so hard on.
It matters that she has a voice,
and speaks in full,
No interruptions.
It matters that she stands up
For change
For progress
For herself.
So, you see, her smile doesn’t matter,
But she may choose to wear it anyways.
The Power of a Woman

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