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Each element of who she is, is scattered on the grass, 
with the scent of earth, the drop of rain, 
where dew reflects a sky of blue.
Her senses are illuminated to harmonize within,
with a howling wolf, a roaring bear, the song of evening wind

She walks within a dreamlike world,  which cannot be defined.
This puzzle we have come to know has no border, nor an end.
When life begins, a tiny seed, is strewn, tossed from the vine,
and picks up speed on feathered wing and touches the divine.

She is daughter of the autumn, and mother of the spring.
Her euphonious legend, an extraordinary thing.
It passes through the blossomed branch of all the sprouted trees.
She is young at heart, and old with drought,
she is strong, and bold, without a doubt, is stalwart through the night.
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of those who mar,
her spirit is unbroken, by the scars of bitter blight.

She honors creatures with respect, where unison is found,
with all things wild,  whether large or small, ...for every life is gold.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze.
There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchronies.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks,
of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours after dark

For yesterday creates today, with a promise for tomorrow.
When songs are played, it can bring us hope, in the laughter of the birds.
Each whisper of a clearer sky, will gently cleanse the smoke,
and buffalo will graze again, the tall green grass will wave again.
The golden sun will rise again, to warm her every word




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10/22/14  Inspired by Contest sponsored By Debbie Guzzi
Resubmitted for Skat's Contest "Premiere Number 7"

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