Thursday, December 23, 2010

Grace

She left in her wake
Ripples of gold
Torrents of love
Written in her headstone stone–
She wanted to be
remembered for
courage
Like Grania O’Mally
Like Jean d’Arc
Like Sita the wife of Ram

She loved deeply
She lived life well
She inspired all of those
unsuspecting souls who
had the grace to witness her smile
And if you ever unleashed her anger
you’d know it was just love in disguise

They were enamored with the Goddess
She always did as she pleased
She always had it her way
And had the very last word
Perhaps the joke was on her
Perhaps she lived
life too forcefully

A modern-day pirate
She left us picking up the pieces
of our dismantled souls
She left instructions and no way to read them
On a very rare
rainy day
she’d leave you covered in kisses–
Bandages for the broken
and
she’d put you back together again 

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