Skimming the Surface of Life

Tiny sips of life she takes,
invisible to others, she walks
unseen. She is there but
but leaves no footprints.

Inside of her are feathers of steel,
no ghost of a soul is she.
Life thinks it has beaten
her down, not true.

A sleeping volcano emits
puffs of smoke, belly
rumbles shake the ground.
The woman is awakening and
no longer will be ignored.

She rises like the Phoenix
to become a power to be
reckoned with, co-creator
with the Creator, vibrantly
alive; she steps forward, a
Being of Light is born.




  1. Truly beautiful Pat; the poem and the picture! There’s so much feel went into this it wood seam! Terrific job; You’re getting better BTW… Cheers!


    • Interesting in that the poem is about another woman, but I do know that when we step forward and accept who we are, we are, indeed, a power to be reckoned with. Thanks for making me think about being a power to be reckoned with…you are right, I am. But then so are you! Hugs, pat


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