Ailes

Turn your face into the wind,
Do not bow to your chagrin,
For dark specters haunt your step,
To steal the dreams that you have kept,
Soar.

A lovely soul amid the scars,
In days of ruin and days of wars,
Not a victim of these times,
Stepping strong through hard climbs,
Breathe.

Midwife, mystic, artist, friend,
Beloved by many to whom you tend,
A smile, a presence, a solace word,
Often spoken, now to be heard,
Listen.

The candle burns upon the sill,
The Spirit breathes - peace be still,
All that is loved is never lost,
And specters fear whom they accost,
Rise.

Turn your face into the wind,
Do not bow to your chagrin,
For tears nurse a lovely soul,
Stories will yet fill up your scroll,
Live.
_____

For a friend, recovering from Cancer.