Strength

One day, I want to be as strong as my shadow;

waking up, running,

falling asleep, dreaming.

Made from muscled arms and soft angles. 

See, look at the strength lifted up on her back.

Carried for millenium or just for moments;

if we can lug strength, I think

we must be becoming strong.

The way she walks, 

in the mornings where the sun

just barely touches the ice topped pavement.

In those moments I attempt to tread in her footsteps, feel the confidence 

her fluid stride emits. 

The world doesn’t have its grasp on her.

She follows the light, and the dread of the days doesn’t 

seem to choke her dreams. Doesn’t haunt her nights. 

One day, I want to be as strong as my shadow.

And now from her I’ve learned:

it takes patience, placed where it looks like you might break,

belief the bandage that you wrap,

holding your grit to your heart,

you will walk. You will follow her. 

You will walk another step.