Saturday, March 19, 2011

One presence, in passing

The ancient woman
Hobbles up the road
Carefully placing each step
And pausing every three
She greets and is greeted at every courtyard
She’s given life and gained respect
Her robes are long, draping and colorful –
Like layers of experience
I look in her eyes as we pass
Her gaze is soft and airy
She smiles as if I’m a long-lost friend
A refreshing welcome, in contrast to a face hardened and calloused by age
We exchange greetings and smiles and part
One presence, in passing, can change the day
I’d like to think her steps are lighter as she continues on.

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