Out in the wilderness,
Past Desolation Row.
Treading through vines
In
the gaze of the crow.
I saw a woman singing with the birds.
Back and forth
In mystical rhyme,
With the falling rain,
The keeper of
time.
I thought to myself, “How does she know all the words?”.
“It’s a gift”, said a voice,
A voice from inside.
“Who
is that”, I asked
But no-one replied.
Was I really there alone?.
The singing cut short,
The melody dropped,
The falling rain
Had come
to a stop.
Through the clouds, the sun came home.
I watched the light,
The glare was harsh.
My eyes caught the birds
On
their migration march.
They upped and left at the drop of a hat.
I kept on walking
As day turned to night.
And I saw her again,
Sitting
in the starlight.
And beside her the birds now sat.
In her lap was a book,
Showing signs of age.
Her arms were folded,
The
wind turned the page.
I was transfixed.
From somewhere around her
She felt a presence, innate.
I hung in the balance
Of
the treachery of fate.
My feelings were mixed.
Looking up from her book,
She stole a glance.
Her eyes, chrome brown,
Locked
me in a trance.
I froze out of fear.
She motioned a finger
As the wind closed the book.
Her eyes were ablaze,
I’ll
never forget that look.
“Come over here”.
I pulled myself to my feet,
Left the place where I hid.
I couldn not say
why,
But I’m glad that I did.
It was something about her I guess.
She patted the floor,
I sat down beside her.
She read aloud,
From the
feelings inside her.
Her hand against my soul she did press.
I closed my eyes
To see the place,
Her words were painting
With tranquility
and grace.
A place off the beaten track.
She finished each verse
With a wisdom few know,
“Get out of your own
way
And let the words flow”.
I haven’t looked back.
She spoke of visions transcending,
Of glory, of pain.
From the experience
of life
On the Astral Plane.
A Woman of Virtue.
She taught me so much
With that single sentence,
Of the acceptance of will,
The
abhorrence of pretense.
I’ll never forget you.
