This was a "poem" framed in my room until I was six. I read it for two years with a heart full of hope until it disappeared. I've spent almost 30 years trying to find it...the words. And WOW...it's still so relevant. And it makes me want to cry that my child heart loved it.
That's lovely. In my book now its handling archetypes - one that women try and emulate being 'the great healer'. That we cannot be any archetype continuously, only the archetype is constant as it's an ideal. That it's not achievable by humans to constantly be an archetype. I liked it. I thought of you and the pressure you put on yourself. Don't know if you still do. I do sometimes.