light and song...

she dazzled as she walked...
this old woman from the
house on the hill...
her hair was white as snow...
her smile brilliant and her eyes wise...
more than the light she emanated...
there was also a sound...
like that of a song...
a melody that played just under
the conscious hearing...
only someone who 'listened',
in that crazy, kooky kinda way,
could hear that song...
the same type of person who understands the way of things old
and unmapped...
this white haired woman was a storyteller,
a visionary who saw past the hardened edges of so called 'reality'...
she saw the truth of things from where the eyes of the story peered deep
into the soul...
and she reached in...drawing out the hidden parts,
those parts people were too afraid to show...or,
too afraid to look upon.
she had an easy way about her...
made people feel at home, no matter what station in life they belonged to...
she was a love set apart,
a love that obeyed no rules so...she was accepted on all realms...
without even trying...
when she told her stories, the People stood in awed silence...
they knew these stories she was telling...had lived them...once,
long ago...before time had become a constraint upon existence...
the People breathed in her words and felt freed from chains
they'd worn for as long as they could remember...chains they'd been born into,
as soon as the warmth of the womb had been taken from them...
she told the stories that needed telling...
stories that needed to be lifted to the heavens so that the gods...
if gods were listening...would know...
that she knew what they were up to...
she gave hope to the People...and she held the People responsible...
for the madness of this world can be blamed on 'gods' for only so long...
this storyteller told stories filled with solution...
and the solution was...
responsibility...
go back to the Old Ways, she urged...
go back to what you, the People, know, feel, breathe as right...
there are no gods on which to place blame and, there are no gods on which to depend
for rescue..it is all up to you...
the People...
so said the storyteller...with hair as white as snow...and a melody emanating from her being...
'it is all up to you...the People'...