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 becoming

A 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’s

Unfurling
shedding
layers of skin
chiselling off
the edges
emerging from
the marble

changing
paradoxically

to become
myself

© Tanya Southey

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