Wise as a crone, though living young, a helper and a healer who may, on occasion, lose her way in the shadow of others’ purposes
yet a pillar of strength when she reaches high enough and deep enough to let go all other voices except the holy one that sings perpetually of compassion and forgiveness in the secret chambers of her heart.
A finisher, she is— who dares to persevere to journey’s end, wearing a moss-green cloak that shimmers violet within and gives off flecks of gold as she walks toward a peach-hued sky kissed with ruby light and the deep cobalt of starry space.
Home is what calls her now, even as she sings its song to all she meets
not ashamed to be so bold— for some will recognize the tune today, though others will require many sunsets before they feel its urging in their hearts
to head West into the twilight where worlds entwine as lovers do, where veils dissolve, and all is unified into unspeakable bliss.