My old woman….

by bkajlich

I am so exhausted tonight.  I really wanted to write a good, long post because tomorrow night I will be celebrating St. Patty’s with friends… but I just don’t have it in me. I apologize. I am trying to think of a great poem to give you in lieu of my own words… and now it just hit me that maybe… just maaaaaaaaaaaybe…hmmmmmmmm, yes ok, I think it’s time.

Nervously, I have decided at this very moment that I will share with you a poem of my own. One I wrote. Yes. This could be very embarrassing but no more than any of the other information I have shared with you… so here goes nuttin!!!! ahhhhhhh!

I could sit forever and listen to the night.

By itself,

It is enough.

My wise old woman

Loves the blanket of stars upon her lap….

It warms her and invites her

To share her many stories with the open sky.

She whispers “It once scared me”

But now she knows and trusts it well.

It’s cloak will keep her safe,

And hide the scars upon her face.

She can dance wildly

With the fervor of a child,

And no one will ever tell.

She wants to stay up late

And listen to the voices of dark creatures,

Who whisper truths that they would never dare to tell

In the light of day.

And now she knows

there is no terror

And that the tales they tell at such late hours

Are full of magic and lust…

Only to be heard by those who believe

That there is beauty in the silence after the world falls to sleep.