The Crone by
Vi Jones

She has always been with me,
In the background,
Silent and alone.
Keeping counsel,
Closely guarded
Until I was ready to accept
That she is me,
My identity.

She's known me since conception.
She's lived and suffered
Through my foolish,
youthful indiscretions.
She's been with me through good and bad,
Has celebrated my achievements,
Grieved with me
When my heart was broken.
But, through it all,
She has remained
Always in the background.
But today,

When I least expected,
I looked into the mirror
And there she was,
Not the scraggly haired,rheumy eyed,
Toothless hag
With claw like fingernails,
That I imagined she would be.
Instead, a fully blossomed woman
Who, when she smiled,
Revealed the wisdom of a lifetime in her eyes.
She is the keeper of the flame that burns
Within this heart of mine.
She is my soul of wisdom,
Guardian of compassion learned.
Handsome?
Maybe,
Though no longer painted with the brush of youth.

Now that I finally meet her
In that mirror on the wall,
I welcome her with open arms,
Embrace her,
Take her to my heart.
She is the best of years to come,
The enlightened one.
She is Child,
Maiden,
Woman,
And now, she is the greatest of them all,
She is The Crone.

Vi Jones (c)December 2000