Becoming
Younger beliefs
that I would
in some magical year
halt and form
develop into
a static person
who had arrived
and then remain
cast in stone
Become
Now I see
that each year
starts in a haze
with a shimmering light
somewhere in the fog
of remembrance
beckoning
a further becomingA deep summoning
of who I was
preordained to be
before I was shrouded
in the layers
of the should’s
the ought’s
and must’sUnfurling
shedding
layers of skin
chiselling off
the edges
emerging from
the marblechanging
paradoxicallyto become
myself
© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks
