For a poet friend
[between the woman she has been and the woman she is becoming]

Her face shines like hope, her smile impossible to turn away.
Laying in the grass, she cradles her own bosom,
patiently holding onto the possibility of love without baggage.
She has gotten used to fighting for dignity,
writing poems ablaze with proclamations of healing and empowerment.
Her poems are her safe place.
With pen and paper, she can say anything and have it recognized,
Asserting her rebellious truths against an uncaring world which doubts her validity.
She is realizing how much she has come to rely on that bitter world,
To define herself in opposition to its coldness.
Her challenge as she heals will be finding what to say
when her world no longer fights against her,
When her true self and the truth of her day-to-day experience
can embrace as lovers, smiling.
What will she write – and Who will she be – when the world she has created
reflects back the love she yearns for
And all the voices within and around her agree?