March 24, 2013 Sunday Whirl #101 The Mystic


Sandra Kovacs was my friend and I will miss her.

The Mystic
We talked last night
And remembered
As the wind howled
The temperature dropped
A cold yesterday
There was no need to hurry

A woman spinning
Her warn
Casting shadows in
The bright sunlight
As the wind howled

You are of the trees
With your country mind
Disguised as a simple man
There will be an opportunity
To become a hero
Your destiny
Will be your choice
The temperature dropped

We all have wounds
Some of our own making
Some so deep
When we reach bottom
It is only the clear water
Of collected tears
Words forgotten
The idea remains
A cold yesterday

Across time she is remembered
Emotions stirred
Like sands in the hourglass
Slipping to fill the heart
A container like a glass jar
On a shelf
All is revealed
There was no need to hurry