The woman was a writer

Her children, her husband, her friends

knew her only as

a mother, a wife, a friend.

 

Alone, as she wrote,

she came alive.

A Person, an Artist of Words.

 

She wrote with her tears,

her laughter, her spirit.

With each passage she wrote,

a little bit of her life

emptied onto the page;

 

She created masterpieces.

With her words,

the oceans came alive;

the trees moved to the music of orchestras;

and the wind breathed new life into the world.

 

But when her symphony ended,

nobody knew about

the oceans; the trees; or the wind.