Once, she was a poet
Vibrant, flowing, stream
A wide river of flow
White water at the rocks

The great heights of joy
Soaring over snow-capped peaks
The lowest forms of misery
Valleys, oppressive with heat

Repulsed by the thought of life
Normal and peaceful and calm
The quiet to her was deafening
Afraid of the promptings of mind

Healing, one day, found her
Just after the bottomless pit
Was found to indeed have a bottom
She took a hiatus and sat

She woke from the horrific dream
Healed and at peace with herself
She wrote, that day, her last poem
Smiled through the ironies lost

Once, she was a poet
Today she is alive
A different sort of living
In love with all that’s inside