“A wing, a torch, a promise”

Sometimes a poem says everything that needs to be said. Thank you Dawna Markova, author, teacher, psychotherapist, researcher, who makes this claim: “I followed in my precious grandmother’s footsteps to become a midwife, but rather than babies, I help birth possibilities within and between people.”

On this fine, gray, quiet morning in the northwoods, Dawna’s poem speaks my heart. It might just speak to yours, too.

” I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible,

to loosen my heart

until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance;

to live so that which came to me as a seed

goes to the next as a blossom

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.”

Glorious twilight on the Summer Solstice 2020, my 70th birthday

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