The Silken Tent

 The Silken Tent

 She is as in a field a silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,
And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,
But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To every thing on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut
In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightest bondage made aware.

 I am grateful for my Supporting Central Cedar Pole. 

I am grateful for the countless silken ties--
my responsibilities and relationships. 

Sometimes they may bind but they are what keep me from blowing away or falling flat.

 I am grateful for the invigorating capriciousness of life
that extends me to my shimmering fullness.

I am just beginning to master that billowing balance of flexibility and freedom.

As I have sought shelter under some of you,
I hope I may offer similar protection.

Here's to the women I know-- you Silken Tents, you!