The child in the old woman
Lurks very near the skin;
Though buried by long years of care,
She’ll surface once again.
She shows her face quite shyly,
With a wondering sort of smile;
Her emotions near and vibrant,
For she hasn’t any guile.
The child in the old woman
Be careful, not to wound-
Her days and hours are precious;
She’s leaving all too soon.
You’ll see the child she once was,
In the vagaries of living;
And far from becoming selfish,
Her days are filled with giving.
There’s a beauty in an old face,
That’s lacking in the young,
As she contemplates a journey,
That she hasn’t yet begun.
The child in the old woman
Is much wiser than she seems,
For she celebrates in vision
What we’d only view as dreams.
She hails a new tomorrow,
Past dimensions we can’t see,
And prepares for a new reality-
One where she is finally free.
The child in the old woman
Smiles at secrets we can’t know-
But the biggest one of all-
Inside she never did grow old.
Patti Masterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-child-in-the-old-woman/
