daughters of jerusalem

{photo credit}

At twenty-two, I let myself be talked into wearing heels at our wedding because
that is what brides do.

Worn once and dirtied from sinking into rain-damp earth,
I tower over my groom in photos and am reminded
of a time I didn't listen to my instincts.

I heed them better at thirty.

Womanhood eludes prescription; their labels run a
size too small to cover any adequately. We are, after all,
created in the image of an infinite, creative God.

Your daughters will prophesy and re-imagine, blaze trails 
and remain faithful to the Spirit poured-out still

I quit trying to squeeze my twice-swelled body into juniors' jeans,
embracing the woman I've become over the girl who once was.

shared with five minute friday at the gypsy mama.  prompt: the women
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