The first time she was lost, an injured bird,
She’d wondered where she’d erred, how this could be,
Accepting blame, she bought in to ‘absurd’
With opened arms, the truth had set them free.
He looked into the mirrorwall; saw “he”,
She saw; minds had met, they’d saved the day,
The days becoming years, she let it be,
While (armed with new-found, longer leash) he played.
But even in the brilliant Milky Way,
Holes of nothing – black – may lay in wait,
A still, small voice within her cried and prayed,
Until with swanlike grace, she seized her fate.
She turned, abrupt, dismissive of his balking,
“She never looked back, she just kept walking.”