She is passing in a warm breeze

Bars of light that cross the floor

One smoke-gray, curled, tiny feather

Skips aside



By her middle hang the keys

Made to open any door

Even the one that lets in the cold wind

From outside



She lives in a house of colour

Guarded by cats three in number

And one great dog of gentle manner

In among the trees



Silence

Carries

No apprehension here

In the warm sun

By the window sill

I can just sit still

And watch her go by...



Queen of field and forest pathway

Understands the speech of stones

She weaves peace upon her loom

Life's mistress