Fey, the dreamy one.
catcher of stones and stories.
a river walker
across fresh polished stones.

as a baby, dreaming of her grandmother
leaning over her in a haze of blue and lavender
motes of colour and light,
already a painter of dreams.

Aware of the meaning of statues
Tara, Sarasvati, Shiva
sandalwood incense rising,
beckoning the Gods.

Barefoot on the grass
wearing moonstone rings
and a jade koru necklace
for new beginnings.

Imagination a keystone
turning the lock
to treasure.

She has suffered
shifts in circumstances
the wheel of change

She has suffered
the toll of sensitivity
feelings like full moon tides
pulling at her

sometimes drowning
in overwhelm

sorrow covering her
like a lake of hair
bowing her down

a Blake watercolour

She stands at a tiered gatepost
wondering what
visions will befall her
set her on a new journey,

what forms they will take,

what new directions her creations
will take her in.

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