One Lady

There is a way to be in this wanting world,
Where sorrows stampede o'er every self,
In being in charity of  living 'mid dying,
Breathing a sigh in the land of the sighing,
Is the art of she who in simply being herself --
Is healing --as God's realm, flag unfurled.

There is a way to walk in this vale of tears,
Where waking so often -- a curse to survive,
A presence that graces, a balm to the broken.
And speaking words that need to be spoken,
Is the art of she who in simply being alive --
Is quietness -- as a dawn that calms all fears.

There is a way to love in this loveless place,
Where a heart can break and bleed its soul,
A tenderness --arms extend and then enfold,
And warmed the heart that had grown cold,
Is the art of she who fires, red-embered coal--
Is life -- as the loving gaze of a beloved face.

Beatific.