My stretch is graceful
My reach is strong
And I lift my body as I
Take the world's strain a
Caryatid of flesh and bone
Willing to carry
The dove in my arms
The word in my head
The task at my feet
The path I must tread
To accomplish the feat of
Lift and bear, of staying
Put in skin and lifting
Arms in recognition of
The temple lintel I
Lift my eyes to see. 
I clasp thee, the
Maker who gave it me
And smile at its light
Weight as if the stone of it
Were a mere pebble
To heft in the hand 
And throw into the world's 
Pool as the first one still
Leaving rings and echoings
Travelling after it - the
Shuddering of all our lives'
Waters carries that first
Impact - and I mirror it
In my own arms: steady
Does the light
Weight bear the lintel stone.
Daughters of Eve
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