One sunday evening
At the crossroads
I stumbled upon a woman
Older than the universe
She tried to speak
But could barely croak
Her face
gaunt and blue
Her skin
shriveled up like a prune
Her hands
Crooked and tremulous
Her gait
Groggy like a toddler’s
Her hair
A fringe of grey-white


She tried to speak again
Threw her arms around me
And said
Before you sail away
Do yourself a favor
And paint my portrait
Write a thousand stories
And make me the heroine
Compose my lyrics
And sing my songs
Become a slave to my rhythm
Carve me out of trees and stones
Color me in and outside the lines
Roll me like a dice in the game of life
Drink me up like a cupload of coffee
And like a river overflowing
let me flood your imagination

She paused
Made a soft sigh
And then began
Here is the punchline
When you get home
Be alone
And in silence
Create me
If you are going to the party
Never leave your soul behind