I am an old soul
No title adorns the cover of my Book of Life
My manuscript remains a dog-eared work in progress
And I wonder…
Each time I am renewed will I recall…at all
Will remembrance of beauties past or hard earned victories linger
Will ignorance mute the voices of wisdoms residing within..
Maid, Mother and Crone waiting patiently
brimming with truths gleaned from chapters past
pages long ago written…and turned..
Until at last they stir
Tickling my sense
Waking dormant memories…
and once again..I remember