Reluctant Hero

 

She was a reluctant hero,

emerging from the fog

of trauma into the light

of the new day

she would create

herself.

It is peculiar, looking back,

to see that, in times when
she had felt most alone,

connections were being made,

just the right turns were taken,

as if she had been
helped and guided

all the way along.

Like a river, life made its own way,

sometimes meandering
between the banks,

sometimes flooding over

to forge a new
and unexpected path.

She had never wanted to
have to be that strong,

yet, in the end, was grateful
that she was.

They say wild hearts can't be broken,

but I disagree. They break.

They just grow stronger

in the wounded places.

A rather predictable and uninspired response to Shay's word list. But I tried. Smiles.