The Woman She Has Become

She speaks of a white horse, Its rider clad in majesty, riding toward her, He suddenly disappears as he approaches, Her face glows whenever she talks about it. She describes a bright light, Claiming it comes to her room in the tranquil midnight, Suddenly, white birds fly out of the light, And in an instant, everything is gone. She talks about walking through a beautiful, colourful, and lush garden, She says she hears birds singing, yet none are around. Suddenly, beautiful young maidens run across in front of her, One of them stops waves at her, and joins the others. She describes standing by a stream, Its water is pure and radiant, She leans down to take a drink, And suddenly, she feels strengthened and well. She mentions standing in a shrivelled meadow, Claiming she sees walking shadows, She is frightened to the core, But suddenly, she transcends. She reflects on the mystery of ageing, Saying it has turned her into an enigma, A vessel of changing lights, My mama is a gem of inspiration. March 8, 2025.