Kali Rests

As the night sets to morning,
Kali descends to the flowing stream.
She draws her bloody tongue inward
Into a mouth tired of war cry.
The ash that matts her skin and hair runs in small spiral whirlpools.
She breaks the sprigs of wildflowers
And takes them in, their fragrance mingling with the wet mud,
the moss, the fishiness.
In her solitude Kali lets go of her anger, of her battles,
of proving her valour for another day.
It has exhausted her.
She looks around at the land she has defended to pause and enjoy it.
She takes the skirt of chopped arms of the enemies from her waist,
The necklace of their heads from off her chest.
And thus with some effort, Kali casts her demons aside.
In the bareness and ease of being girl,
She dips into the river.
She is every woman, any woman,
And it is time for her to rest.

______

Whatever your labour: domestic, physical, emotional, verbal, acknowledge it and rest as you deserve to. Ask your mothers and younger sisters to rest. Ask the matriarchs and the feminists to rest. Rest is integral to the entropy that will change the world.