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