For the Woman Who Cannot Wander


As I curiously perch with my feet in the water, my heart breaks for the woman who cannot wander.

I ache for Katina, captive to Sea World, and for the child bride with a future forced before her. My thoughts are with the women who cannot voyage, and for the willing spirit with a gun upon her courage. For the women whose potential is inhibited by circumstance, and to all who relate to this by happenstance.

The feminine soul was divinely crafted to explore, to retreat, analyze, and search for more. ‘Twas designed to discover identity before she might want to be a wife, and nurture herself prior to another’s life.

I blow a kiss to every star in homage of the choice—the prerogative to use my individual and worthy voice. How I wish I could save them with my bare hands. It is a world of inequality, belonging to the man.

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