{SoulCircle} Journal Note: CIRCLE

🌕 The Circle Woman

Circle woman

not the first

spun from a pattern passed down in blood,

Each round a wound retold

In hush and heat.

Circle woman

looped the same lanes

again / again

thinking it forward,

finding it fixed.

The path curved back

no matter the pace.

Circle woman

mother. Sister. Carer.

First to know,

first to fix,

first to fall quiet.

Called on, counted out,

always the answer

never the question.

Circle woman

curates collapse

boss by morning,

breakdown by night,

All of it lit for the grid.

Smile. Spin. Succeed. Repeat.

This is the new good girl.

The circle woman

stepped again

into a softer circle.

One woven with breath,

with bones that listened.

Where turning meant tending,

and rhythm was shared.

Not a fairground spin,

but a firelit round.

Each hand held,

not held down.