her calling card presence belies
an aura of a certain dignity,
a riddle that
leads with its answer
so clearly that you miss
that it is in plain sight

she carries a duality
in her deep green
or are they hazel
5000-piece puzzle eyes

indifference to pain
that she might cradle
those who suffer

cause and effect
carved her
slowly and perfectly
like a river gently cuts
the walls of a canyon
unwrapping a life
of color and light

she cannot help but
make music, with her hands
or by the way her
body cuts through the air.
she is a song,
a six syllable waltz
with the most perfect
Japanese lyric

indifference to pain
that has defined her
celebration of discovery

© Tom Watters  1/26/07