Strength in her stride

Mine is a leisurely pace,

Feet sinking in sand,

Tide curling foamy fingers around ankles,

Salty white bubbles applauding the miracle of a sunrise.

Hers is a rhythmic movement

Powered by the momentum of freedom.

She walks ahead, laced up and ready,

Her race already won.

No more going solo in the dark.

Her arms swing forward as if carrying a baton,

Willing to hand it to a relay partner.

Her steps on dry, packed sand are quick, determined.

She has found herself again.

It is a discovery of her sense of being,

Like a renovated home,

Gutted, transformed, modernized

Ready to be inhabited again,

Windows wide open, inviting the breeze.

Reclaimed, redecorated, decluttered

She has ripped down her curtains,

Shaken them out,

Scattering the heavy dust of the past on thirsty earth.

She is unafraid, bare and beautiful.

Light within her is unveiled,

Uncovered by the space

Where truth overcame fear.

Illuminated in strength and acceptance

Of things she cannot change.

She is moving toward a new life,

Freedom in her gait, skin glistening with sweat,

She propels forward.

With sparkle of morning light on sand-dusted shoulders,

She rises boldly into her true self

Like the sun on the horizon

Lifting its miracle for everyone to see.

She walks this new path in a renewed body,

A gentle spirit, wise with her story

Ready to begin a new chapter

With strength in her stride.

– Stacy Smith Rogers

Tried-and-True