I am.

I go by different names—

professionally, a coach, a guide;
personally, a wife, a daughter;
preferably, a poet, a healer;

ontologically, homo sapiens;
sexually, female;
formally, Rosslyn,

though my soul dances
to the lilt of
Yun

A disciple of life, a pilgrim of truth
a ball of light, a flow of energy
shifting—an infinite world of possibility

Try, catch me, contain me.
I’m unwritten. I’m undefined.
Not to be fit into boxes of fancy.

I go by different names,

and today, I allow myself to be a woman,
to be with the pain of the monthly affair,
to indulge in savory delicacies,
to laugh heartily at what tickles.

Today, I allow myself to be a human being,
to weep as the going gets tough,
to rest in the clearing in the forest of noise,
to labor for what matters.

Today, I allow myself to be
(and this pleases me.)