No one has heard the voice of the invisible crone,
No matter her signs, her pleas & her singular groan,
“Welcome to life”, she was told on the day of her birth,
“May you be happy, walk tall & live long on this earth”.
She, mantled in swaddling, of bone, flesh & elegant skin,
Wrapped too tight in life, from toes, right up to her chin,
Pampered & pummeled, with strict love & hard learning,
But deep in her core, burned that inexplicable yearning.
Walking life´s path, leaving no voice, mark, no errant prints,
Shedding with each step, skins, feathers & well worn lints,
Left denuded of life, bare & naked before the Lord´s soft eyes,
Going back to God, she follows sans shame, to beckoning skies.
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