I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,
grey 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 grown up daughter who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons and sunrises.
I find her becoming,this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’s sufficient,
knows where she’s going and travels with passion.
Who remembers she’s precious,
but knows she’s not scarce-who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.
~by Jayne Relaford Brown~
