An old woman knows
From the top of her head
To the tips of her toes
She’s been, she’s seen
The live and dead
The bulk of the scene.
From our first day to our last
Our shape doesn’t last
Our body and spirit we can’t arrange
Not to change.
It’s funny how many try to cling
To foolish ideas held tight in a sling –
If they’d guide their arm right
And give a great swing
And the foolishness fling
Relieved of this burden they’d soon see the light.
When we let the light in
We gain
A functioning brain.
What delight we can have from thinking straight!
It’s never too late.
©Chava bat Miriam
