Who Do I Write For?

When Wrenna was a little girl, we would spend every Wednesday together.  We called it Wrens-day.  I would pick her up at the curb of her school, and we would go on all sorts of adventures.  Wren is grown now, and off on an adventure of her own to Geneva, Switzerland.  She wrote this poem and had no idea how it would speak to my heart.  I share it with you now:

Wrenna and Auntie Kim, celebrating Wren’s upcoming “Adventures in Europe”

 

By Wrenna Keller, Geneva, Switzerland, March 2017

Who do I write for?

I write for the future self

battered and bruised but powerful as all

A woman of earth and stone and water

A soul of air, and heart of sunshine

This is me, the woman I am and have become

A master of the moon, reader of water, singer of songs and maiden of Love

My hair smells of chai and my skin smells of herbs

I am the shadow woman who dwells in dreams

Silent sound of wing beats

Drums of heart

This is me, the woman I am and have become

Ancient ruins

Echos in the caves

waves crashing, children laughing

my wind chimes act as sirens

igniting curiosity and desire, pulling you in

Bones in the garden tell stories of life and death

Ribbons in the trees, reminiscent of summer celebration

Tea by the creek

white lace table cloth, muddy feet

memories of years to come

prayer, celebration and time

bright red blood drips

returning to Earth, making me feel Whole and connected

Woolen rugs fray at the edges

Incense smoke slowly rises

The sound of the kettle brings my attention to the dawning daylight

Crickets, birds and breeze

Curtains flutter and I stay still to prevent her from waking

Gentle breaths on my chest

open your eyes slowly child

Be soft today, there is no need to hurry

for you are not yet born

Lavender linens, adorable kittens

We’ve weaved this into existence together

They say it takes a village, and that’s exactly what we’ve built

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