I was sitting on a quiet shore of lake Geneva in the morning, a cool breeze coming off the water. The combination of the cool air, the morning breeze, and the clouded sky gave me an impression. I detected a certain personality that the wind had taken on. This is how I saw her.
Heavy brow, furrowed.
Easy smile, mysterious.
Voice rising up and down –
Low and reverent,
Urgent and impassioned.
She holds her chin high
With authority from the past
To tell of the future,
Always carrying something new in her hands.
Looking back over her hunched shoulder,
Her dark eyes flickering like candlelight,
She pauses before pulling back the curtain
To reveal to the world.
Bracelets jingle with her movement
As she unfolds the silk tapestry
That tells a story
Meant to shock and thrill.
But sometimes she speaks gently and carefully
And quietly studies the palm of a hand,
Drawn inward within herself
In a silent conversation.
Her lips on the brink of a smile,
Her eyes both full and vacant –
She knows things of other worlds.
But she glides by
Skirts swishing and trailing
Not saying a word,
Carrying with her
That something is following close behind.