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Poem

It was said I was born of quenched love,
almost vanquished by a storm along
the Red Sea in a  din of gray  November.
Wandering around  dunes, a Maiden
kind housed me comfortably--
O she, laughing among lilies in the quiet
and wild  current; nourishing my psyche
with keen sensibilities.

Time passed between  rain and light, 
as  I  crossed  Earth and Heaven with a sacred 
power of a growing woman that clutched 
the mystery of unknown incidences…
And when bells of a day's time have played out,
visions sailed in my mind--
that  our King drew  counsel  from  my foresight
warmed by an esoteric fire that burned, 
speaking of prophecies and omens  vouched–
this higher instinct streaming  from ‘ Maiden Mother’
who opened a celestial gateway that betook me.

So  the tale of a Priestess newly arisen
where legend's moments fell on a gliding leaf;
a story half told of my  telepathic gift
of mortal beings honoring  me, ‘Sybil, Sybil’: 

yet, though  revered as a sage, my own destiny 
was not mine to hold. 
Not even where I truly  came from.




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