A tremor colors the dryness,
a voice cuts through the gale:
“This one belongs to the journey,
should she choose to believe.”
A bell chimes in Heaven,
a shadow calls her name.
If death is not a beginning,
why do we reach for the sky?
A wave crosses the desert,
a shiver moves the plains:
“This one will taste the harvest,
she will carve the bark of faith.
A message’s dawned on her sorrow,
her task throughout the land:
“This one is marked for greatness,
should she choose to believe.”
Maryse G. Copans © 2011
Photograph taken in Eygalières, France (courtesy of Francine Godet © 2011)
