And then, the flow began:
The life that was their own,
The life that was her own
That urged a broad wingspan;
No longer words, alone
No longer friends outgrown….

She found true love without a man;
Won lands afar without a throne;
Traversed where none had ever flown –
And all of this, without a plan,
Without a soul yet to condone
The very life she’d only known

With only whispers of “I can…!”
She lifts her eyes, will not bemoan
The very life, love some’d disown;
Though from malaise he’d said she ran,
Through heartaches, breaks come on full-blown,
She’d come to now, to but intone,

To sing like ancient Solomon
Her heart’s truth, life and love depone
In psalms, her soul’s brilliant lodestone;
To find in sweet, attentive span
And unfailingly true touchstone
Her life, her love ne’er to atone…

And then, and so her flow began….