A woman is not reserved,
She is wild, untamed and
Secure like the waves
Endless, steadfast, wild femininity.
Constant, deep and roaring.
More than what is on the surface.
You may hear the crashing,
See the white foam curling up the sand,
But she is deeper than your perception.
She cannot sit still.
She is not a stagnant pool
Where rot collects in contained water.
She is not meant to be silent,
But to sing her song of
The waves crashing
And I hear her.
She says, “Are hoping and dreaming the same?
Because hoping I
May lose, is dreaming
Meant to be?
I want to be it all.”
Salt that cleanses
But if it loses its saltiness, it is
Vacant and unrestored.
Don’t just sit and be pretty,
Trampled under their feet.
You are a wild ocean,
Running from sea to shining sea.
*Poem in collaboration with Holly Gray
Image via Raisa Zwart Photography