The bag lady
When her husband threw her out
she got down on to her feet
and kept them on the ground
to start a new life with a wider range
of vision and perspective
and became the centre of a circle
of enlightened people, new age prophets,
spiritualists and visionaries of Aquarius,
like a wise old lady of transcendent insights
all the while remaining like a tramp,
insisting on her status of a bag lady
with all the necessary outfits:
plastic bags for luggage,
bicycle as only vehicle,
no real apartment of her own,
no riches, no security, no nothing
but a universe of friendship and devoted friends,
of cheerfulness and good comradeship,
all the best and most enlightened people of the place,
like as if she had been a queen
but happier as such than any one enthroned
and richer than the Queen of England
with her ownership of nothing
but preliminaries of spirituality,
more vitally important than the whole world
of mundane and passing follies.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-02-10 at 12:10
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