A woman's path
Our path is a stream that rolls like a teardrop
down mountains and gullies
to dry river beds.
We splash over boulders
bone white in the summer
and seep underground in the dead of the night.
We merge in the valley
with new paths in the springtime
when snows of the winter
change water to wine.
It is there we will marry and laugh in the sunshine
and race with the fishes right down to the sea.
Too soon we must part and divide in the ocean
and where all our tears become salt for the waves.
Forever and ever this cycle continues
as mist from the sea causes clouds to be formed,
which burst over mountains and roll
with the raindrops like tears from all woman
way down to the sea.
Sally James
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