Lot’s wife

But if you travel far enough, one day you will recognize yourself coming down the road to meet yourself. And you will say - YES.

Marion Woodman, Addiction to Perfection

Somewhere up the road
in another voice
and another language
she waits for another time,
and the washing of the feet,
while I, salt tear woman-size,
stand solidified, Lot’s wife
looking back at my flaming city
valleys and mountains and plains
away. Stand turning,
millenial weight of years turning
toward the distant waiting woman,
noting epochs of lives unnoticed
falling and tumbling together
down rock encrusted hills,
woman without end,
lines and rhymes disturbing her,
hard words, soft words, cries,
all her unheard calling words
breaking open in their fall,
the silenced sounds of woman
being heard from her beginnings
when woman’s word made flesh
of speech. Full turning, one step
forward, one more, and another,
I move up the road to her
who I am, and am not yet.