Finding Her Here

by  Jayne Relaford Brown

 

 

I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,

gray at the temples,

soft body, delighted,

cracked up by life

with a laugh that’s known bitter

but past it, got better,

knows she’s a survivor—

that whatever comes,

she can outlast it.

 

I am becoming a deep

                                                weathered basket.

 

I am becoming the woman I’ve longed for,

the motherly lover

with arms strong and tender,

the growing up daughter

who blushes surprises.

I am becoming full moons

            and sunrises.

                                                           

I find her becoming,

this woman I’ve wanted,

who knows she’ll encompass,

who knows she’s sufficient,

knows where she’s going

and travels with passion.

 

Who remember she’s precious,

but knows she’s not scarce—

who knows she is plenty,

                                                plenty to share.

 

 

 

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