Finding Me

I borrowed something from the blog of Little House on Wheels. OK, I stole it. I didn’t tell her I was using it, but I will bet that she doesn’t come hunting me down with a wet noodle.

Here is what I “acquired”:

Finding Her Here

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 growing up daughter
who blushed 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 remembers she's precious,
but knows she's not scarce-
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.

Jayne Relaford Brown © 1994

~ ~ ~ ~

Last night I was getting ready to post this, and I wrote a big, looooonnnnng post about it. Then I reread what I’d written, thought a little more, and I scrapped that. All I’m going to say is this ... this poem struck me squarely between the eyes, because it speaks to me about who I am becoming. Many of you have followed my journey for quite a long time, and you know I’ve come to recognize who I am, who I was and who I have become, with more joy in my heart than I ever thought I’d know.

For a long time “I” was covered up with life’s clutter, and I lost myself. Oh, of course I wasn’t totally lost, but I certainly didn’t have ... or perhaps just didn’t take ... time with me, for me, or about me.

Now, I’m glad I am me, grey hair, soft body, and happily aging!