she is standing in front of three hundred people

pure energy zinging through her bones

she ducks her head under the wave of a pain swell

only to be met with a wall of water

on the other side

she is trembling, sweating hearing no

and she takes it

she is what roars from the ashes of an agony-charred heart

lightning strikes and her muscles coil—taut

ready to warrior spring

she is learning to pad softly through the thicket

to move in tune with the breath of the air

she is beauty

she is strength

she is a woman finding her voice

only to die to it

she is the village elder who has seen a thousand battles

and finally

finally

understands when to fight and when to tread carefully

like a huntress, and listen

“Lioness” -Melissa Kircher