I was lost when you found me
standing next to the stairway
another path not yet discerned.
I remember the small girl spat upon by the roadside
the violence of men fearing innocence
little sense as my strength betrayed me.
It was fear that tore me
from what I had known
certain truths will cut the ties.
I remember the young woman in the headscarf
the flowers that she had bought
a lump in my throat as she handed them to me.
It was absence that drove me
toward a certain uncertainty
my rebellion finally overthrown.
I remember the old woman gentle in wisdom
her husband by the open door
as he sat and bade a silent welcome to me .
It is not wisdom and yet
I am content to sit and listen
birdsong beckoning in the silence.