"THAT WOMAN"
by Donna Ashworth
I’ve always wanted, very much, to be that woman.
The old one, with the hair like silver that seems to radiate its very own source of light.
The one with the knowing smile that hints at humour ever present and a life that’s been full of belly laughter.
The woman with the deep lines in her weathered skin, lines etched out by adventure, by joy, by fear and by growth.
I imagined how I’d float rather than walk because I no longer bear the weight of the world on my shoulders and I marvelled at how my days would be full to the brim with resting and noticing the world around me. I would not care for thoughts of guilt because by then I would have learned that resting is doing, and is very important indeed.
There I would be reading, gardening, eating food I had grown and passing my little nuggets of wisdom down, to anyone who wanted to listen.
The contented crone.
The final phase of the journey of womanity.
No chasing youth for me,
I will be languishing, loudly, in the joy of my age and my luck at having got so far.
I’ve always wanted, very much, to be that woman.
Join me, if you like.
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