They sat there in silence, the young and the old,

Contemplating life, and what they’d been told.

The maiden, young, suffering knew not yet.

The crone, ancient, life’s troubles had met.

As they sat there the maiden thought of what she could say

While the old one the virtue of stillness did weigh.

"Oh, do tell me, please," said the maiden at last,

"What you have learned in your long journey past?"

The Crone spoke not a word but thought the question through,

And watched a pearl of nature, a drop of morning dew.

Brilliant and bright, it danced in the sun

Rolling down softly, till towards the ground it spun.

Finally the Crone thought again of her task.

"Take your lesson in nature, and not in my past.

For each one lives differently, the only force that is real

Is the turning of seasons, the spin of life’s wheel.

"Observe all the flowers, the sun and the moon,

Hear the wild laughter of the wolf and the loon.

Forget not the scent of a fresh broken grain

Nor the feel of the breeze, be it good or bane.

The world, it shall come eventually to end.

The waste, the pollutants that worldliness send

Will destroy the materials in the fabric of life.

But those true to nature will long have found strife

"And developed a spirit, strong, this world to transgress,

Forever dancing around in summerland at rest.

The Mother and Father forget neither a child nor a tree,

The Ancient of Old knows every grain of sand by the sea.

"So fear not, young maid, and hear what I’ve taught.Life’s mysteries are great and yearn to be sought." May the Crone’s wise language ring true to your ears,

And guide your life on through the years.