Her lineage is impeccable
But from whence has she come?
She comes when you don’t want her
When you think you’re not ready
Yet,
When you most need her.
She tolerates no lack of attention
She tolerates no lack of love
She sticks pins in your tender spots
To see if
“You’re done yet”
She never forgives
Yet
She never condemns
Flowing robes
Outstretched arms
Piercing eyes
Pinioned wings
Missing teeth
Limping gate
Rheumy eyes
Shopping cart and cardboard box
Feel her rage that is not hate
Feel her love that is not lust
Seek her out
Across miles of barren waste
In the steppes of the Himalayas
In aisle ‘B’
next to the baked goods
-Paul Reynolds
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