The few and far of our not so
Halcyon days have been lost
Scattered to the winds
Swallowed by the earth
Become statues of the streets
Yet here she stands
Strong and tall
In the meadows of things to come
She’s climbed mountains upon
mountains of treacherous learning
Swam unblinkingly the never
Ending rivers of time
Floated on countless
clouds of impossibility
She’s got the moon in her eyes
A glow that wax’s and wanes
But can not be snuffed out
Built to withstand time
She is the tree that
refuses to be cut down
Commanding every space
she enters
Tornado trapped in human flesh
Voice an avalanche of dreams
Broken yet alive
She’s a weaver making baskets
from past struggles
To hold the fruits of the future
She’s making it
She’s making it
She’s made it
On the way
Through the battle
Victorious on the
other side
The forward path holds so much
Promise