Boudica, my sister, I so wished to meet you!

How I’ve imagined it many times.

In some versions I would simply stand in honor

almost at attention, rapt in recognition

at valiant strength you bore 

in spite of how they tore

away simple clothes, took your children, tossed your gift

into the cauldron, heaping ashes, guilt and blame

intent to maul and maim.

I saw at times myself running with abandon

to swoop fierce form into my arms with wild desire 

with love and sacred trust

shield innocence from lust

twin wolves, rapacious, blood dripping from greedy mouths

seeking to devour for power, for glory, for fame

what they could never claim.

Once, I imagined simply meeting in a field

our hands clasped, laughing at the wind, we’d spin and spin

free from all ties that bound

echoing now the sound

of ten thousand sisters marching forth unafraid

soaring through this strange land, piercing with perfect aim

dark center of their game.

Boudica, my sister, you come to me in dreams,

say you’ve imagined it many times.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boudica