we are held one moment, one breath, one heartbeat at a time. even when I feel I am falling, I am held, safely. sometimes the fire within, which most often warms and lights my next step, rages. out of control – yes – that is the rage unseen, well hidden and buried; wounds of the past. wanting to be felt, seen, honored – so the soft warm light returns. brighter, free. heart opened. By Carrie Cannady
I am grateful for Carrie’s permission to share her poem from the writing circle here. You can find more of Carrie’s writing on her blog, LeadOurLives.net
I continue to meet amazing women across different time zones. Together we are writing, listening and learning from one another. Share your voice with us.
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