It was always from the same breath
you were called both ***** and hen.
The cue from on the hoof words jarring.
They wanted to curtail your pride
to wrestle ambition,
chide even your Soliloquy.
By the soak of the covert
all she wanted to was wash
the dust from her feet,
proceeding to use a pumice
she recognised the endless toil.
Submitting to the widening silence,
her cochlea impressed -
the whisper of what it was to hear a stream,
the disciple's quest - now her inner strength :
wading courage, sharpened focus
the weathered course, she longed to know.
Tally Crane ,Oak and bream
the amble of time proceeded
mindful her shawl swept
towards a larger cycle .