Praiseful Women

There are times—
times when I loosen up
down to the elements
and, like bows on a kite line do,
my spirit lofts on breezes,
changes perspective,
and knows more upon
its quiet knocking home.

Once—and oh, it was lovely,
it whistled so achingly real
the laughter of praiseful women
who blew dandelions in my sleep.

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