She is,
The witch,
The magician,
Mysterious,
Beyond all,
Explanations.
She is,
The teacher,
The guide,
Intelligent,
Beyond all,
Illusions.
She is,
The Mother,
The Sister,
Compassionate,
Beyond all,
Restrictions.
She is,
BEYOND WORDS,
to define.
She is,
The witch,
The magician,
Mysterious,
Beyond all,
Explanations.
She is,
The teacher,
The guide,
Intelligent,
Beyond all,
Illusions.
She is,
The Mother,
The Sister,
Compassionate,
Beyond all,
Restrictions.
She is,
BEYOND WORDS,
to define.
I asked.
” Why did you do this? “
She answered.
“ I knew,
that it had to be done,
I did,
that which had to be done,
And,
that which is done,
Can never be undone “
But,
she never said.
Why it was done.
I write,
Poems,
Once in a while.
Sometimes,
With a touch,
Of Philosophy.
But I know that,
I am neither a,
Poet nor a philosopher.
In the end,
That raises the question,
Who am I?
Do my actions form,
The base of,
My identity.
Or can it be,
That my thoughts,
Define it.
She walks out,
And her dress!
It Follows her?
May be not.
Rather it seems,
That it leeds her
Or can it be that,
It does both?
In a way,
Somehow.
It should be,
after all its all around her.