The circle of a woman’s life
Has turns at every corner,
Pointed, piercing ones at that.
At every turn, she encounters
Her past welded into her present;
The seams of her guarded future
Slowly sneaking away;
The entrances and exits miraculously merged;
Speed bumps and roadblocks strewn along the way.
Although the baffling maze
Makes her feel lost every now and then,
She can see the light
At the end of the sharp twists and dark tunnels,
Deceptive like a mirage –
Always in sight,
Yet never quite within reach.