Rescue I’ve made it through the tangled, thorny forest where the bodies of would-be victors lie, all glow-in-the-dark bones beneath the full-moon sky. I’ve made it through passwords and riddles, traps and duals, kicks and slaps and ridicule, Rumplestiltskin dancing, mocking on piles of spinning wheels, pricking my fingers on the greed of kings. I’ve made it through curses and evil spells, avoided bottomless wishing wells and ingratiating wolves - and here I stand, battered and bruised for sure, bleeding, tired and sore - but hale and hearty and strong, with plenty of fight in my body and mind - and with my sights set. The castle is quiet and dark and still in this middle of the night, and the drawbridge is down. I leave my sword in its sheath - I know all the dragons and they’re on my side - and climb the spiral stairway to the highest tower, growing wings as I climb and casting off years of fears and caution and stealth. The topmost...
Women's Spiritual Poetry