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It’s not that she’s been silent until now,
though those who haven’t trained themselves to hear
the creak of mountains, work of wind, might claim
she hasn’t had a voice. It’s that she knows
the power of slow growth, of listening.
Now, as she turns her mind toward the world,
she’ll teach it what she’s learned, a better strength:
the strength of sea that, rising, can’t be caught
or kept restrained; the strength of milk and sun
and ink; the strength of those she’s raised to speak
the truth—the children who will match her stride
into the world and build it better. Now
her voice will not be hushed; this wind is fierce.
It winnows, working mysteries in the world.
There’s power in a truthful woman’s voice.


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