Letters to the Universe

I lean my face down, down to the running water.

I drink from the straw of wisdom left for me by the women that have come before.

I want to deeply know, to experience their transformation as mine. To follow in their footsteps and traverse their paths.

Bold and powerful, insecurity bound tightly and placed inside curiosity. Those are the women I follow.

Has my life lost meaning? Am I living the way I envisioned? Have I been fruitful? Where has my time gone?

Did I cruise through life forgetting that there is an off ramp that we all have to follow, that turns us back onto the Self to ask, “am I enough, have I done enough?” Is there another chapter not written as I walk through my days?

So, I lean forward and drop my whole mouth, my face, and my head into the waters of wisdom of those that have gone before, who have also stopped, looked fiercely and stepped into a new world.

I drink deeply of their journeys and believe their possibilities as mine. 

I pull up from those sacred waters and as the rivulets cascade down my back, my mane fully entrenched with their wisdom,

I hope this time I will not be afraid.