To my heroine

Her name was the Word Woman!
She didn't rescue me from a burning building,
nor return my stolen purse,
heck, she didn't even bring my cat back;
but she saved me alright.

It happened in the kitchen;
I was shredding carrots at full speed,
chopping garlic, crushing lentils,
forgetting about love.

I was about to pull out the cumin
when she smacked a poem right into my ears,
and with just a few lines,
my eyes lit and I burst into laughter.

I do not recall turning off the heat on the stove,
but I do remember bending out of the pang
only a belly laugh can bring.
I remember how naturally,
the laughs transitioned into wails,
and how the tears gushed out the pain, joy, and longing.

It felt as if I was being shoved out of the road
before a car was about to hit me,
only to be carried to my garden's window
to admire the white blossoms swaying softly,
on the unusually warm winter breeze.

The lemon tree was bathed in the last rays of the sun,
a swarm of bees posing swiftly on the buds,
packing pollen into their baskets,
extracting drops of sweet nectar
while their tiny legs assisted the flowers to bear fruit.

I was met by life;
beauty pouring through all my senses.
My heart expanding at every beat.

Her voice, the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation technique,
the balsam over the wound, that slipped right into my soul.