Below is poem I wrote years ago that is still one of my favorite pieces. I’ve posted it on my old blog and on my Helium.com page in the past. I was thinking this morning that it might need a more recent revamp. While it still holds true, there is so much more to being “That Woman” in the life I have now.
I wonder what it is like to be “that woman.”
The woman who walks in the room
and demands everyone’s attention.
The woman with the dark eyes,
full of mystery and magic
that draw in both men and women,
and makes them yearn to know the secrets hidden within.
The woman with the cascading raven hair
that evokes ballads from minstrels and sonnets from poets.
The woman who leaves a nearly physical spirit behind
with anyone who has ever been fortunate enough to touch her.
The woman whose vision lingers in dreams
and whose voice echoes softly amidst whispers.
The woman with fingers tender enough
to caress the most delicate of mists
and nails hard enough to pierce the harshest of stones.
The woman whose influence is remembered
when her existence has long faded.
The woman men rally to defend
though she possesses her own strength for battle.
The woman who runs drenched amidst a thunderstorm
to challenge the lightning with her fists.
The woman whose passion is not seen with eyes
but perceived by souls.
The woman whose laughter can illuminate the darkest of days
if only in a memory.
The woman who can carry the heaviest and saddest of hearts upon her shoulders
without a single faltering step.
The woman who lingers on the edge of darkness
while clinging to the shadows of moonlight.
The woman who cherishes the girl of her past
while knowing that she is intertwined with the goddess of her future.
That woman within and without me.