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.
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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