The Wise Crone

Her old and grizzled graces
Hold up amongst the faces
That pass her in their races
For what they see as freedom

To her they are all wandering
As she sits calmly pondering
The true joys they are squandering
For she knows they cannot see them

She knows regret as revelation
Forgiveness as a true salvation
And suspension of one’s expectations
Can grow such endless joy

Still green is grass as well as money
With one as vinegar and one as honey
And some may find her answer funny
But she knows want tends to cloy

So she walks on uninhibited
With a smile life once prohibited
And a regalness exhibited
By the looseness of her spine

For those who actually notice
In this world so out of focus
She floats much like the lotus
And is equally divine