From the pool of water, a fiery figure appears. She tells me, you are still young.
Foam and smoke arise around her feet. She doesn’t walk on the fluid surface, instead, she picks a rock she can shine on.
Mastery isn’t my thing, she’s the one that is fierce and brilliant, confident and courageous. She’s the one walking on, while my mind bleeds.
I was watching when her spirit picked up her reluctant heart, packed up her restless mind, and showed her the way.
I wished for her spirit to do the same, again, but this time, to carry me away.
I watched as her spirit took away her troubles, lifted her feet some inches from the ground, so she doesn’t feel the doom that is to come, one day, but not this day. Or the next.
Spirit will do that.
Reward you for your courage.
And her spirit set her sights far ahead.
She might not see what is to come, but at least she’s not looking back.
If she did, she would see me, admiring her, trying to hide that I am wondering – will it ever be me?
Just like that, a few steps ahead, content.
And not looking back.
Spirit of Tara 