This gentleness she carries-
spine of mettle.
A softness born of strength.
She guards it like a bird in her hands;
not too open leaving it vulnerable to be plucked away
by a gust of life’s winds;
not too closed that it gets crushed by a hard and stingy spirit.
Can you feel that feather running down the back of your neck
across your shoulders
over the hairs of your arms
finding it’s way into your own palms of grace?
That’s the feeling we hold on to even as we stand tall and strong.
Take care of it always.