A Body at Rest

She sleeps deeply, beautiful as smooth carved marble,

her moonlit face shows no wrinkles, no scars

that you might see in the morning light, for work

wearies and wears us down as life runs by,

and her hardened hands are rendered tender in the dark,

rough and calloused as they may be in light of work,

at night, at night she dreams of love and childhood,

carefree and joyful, and her hands flutter free as birds,

her arms transform, finely feathered wings, graceful, sleek,

beating back against the headwind of time,

soar her return to pastels and unclouded days,

unspoken memories, sweet silent dreaming

of the soul, her body at rest, savoring the kind ineloquence

of silent healing all through the forgotten day of night.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s