Replenishing

Artist – Kristel Bechara

My salty lashes flutter in my sleep as raindrops chatter. 

There is silence whirring in places my bones used to ache. 

Distant echoes in my mind in the place of present voices. 

My aches now have no name, no cause, not much to say. 

My skin is unrecognisably familiar, my woman-hood grand. 

Sighing at the glory lost to my being in younger days; 

She stands, imperfectly flawless in a limbic dance. 

My occasional numbness, riding the waves of feeling. 

With the depth in my soul and the love in my being. 

With little gifts from heaven I didn’t see coming;

Like entrusted fingertips replenishing my used skin. 

Floating through dimensions in hazy warm lights. 

My being, wearing my presence like a knitted scarf. 

Patiently created, carefully detailed, finally slowing down. 

The chaos fading into a mellow hue, gone until the next hello.