You had me grow up in an instant.

Releasing ideas of security
and of having any answers
and of knowing what to do.
The moment I saw the
pink little finish line—
the one as I crossed it,
the entirety of my smallness ended:
I was no longer alone.
No longer in need.

I was now,
the woman-child,

charged with
your needs,
carrying your security,
your comfort,
your lessons in a
small, loosely wrapped
bundle around my body.

This was the end of all I knew.
The end of all I was before.
The beginning of letting it all go.

And in this way you,

my child,
have been my greatest guru.
The only teacher I never recognized.

The only teacher I ever named.

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Editor: Catherine Monkman

{Photo: elephant archives}