Invincible

She sits by the stream of consciousness with the echo of silence Takes her mind into blistering darkness below false reason’s truth Down by the water of tears she lights a candle in her mind’s storms Embraces the sadness of sorrows and rewires misleading thoughts They called her a witch with no conscience a gipsy lost on the road Burnt her broomstick branded her skin and confiscated her wagon Shackled her whistles and bells to hot metal rods and straightjackets Turned down the heat in the foregone conclusion that she was gone Yet when the ashes rose she floated on wings of kind forgiveness Remembered her many friends in Auschwitz in the chambers of hell She had come prepared in a purple jumpsuit made from asbestos Forged by history and knowledge that she was stronger than hatred She assembled a step ladder one rung at a time and slowly ascended To a waxing moon sickled with hope and compassion into laughter ‘These imbeciles did not take my passion for starlight and wisdom’ ‘My tea leaves are stronger and smell of freedom scented in love’ She brought a basket of sandalwood and sweet lavender dreams And retrieved a besom bequeathed to her by ancestry’s lineage Looked up to the sky and breathed a prophecy painted from clouds Sealed her escape with seven locks of her hair and brushed off the dust 15th November 2019