The Winged Woman

May 27, 2009
Everyday she returns to that place,
That place where the rain is never ending.
Everyday she is soaked; she carries no umbrella.
Everyday she walks alone
Along the worn down path that she has made;
Walking back and forth everyday.
Everyday she falls in the mud
Because of all the holes along her path.
Everyday she looks down;
She always makes it to that place everyday.

Today it has stopped raining, she is lost.
Today she feels the welcoming warmth of the sun,
For the very first time.
Today she was given directions home
From a kind soul.
Today she walks a foreign path, fresh and new.
Today she looks down at the path before her
To find it filled with irises instead of holes...

She picks one and inhales the beauty of life.

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