Tiny sips of life she takes,
invisible to others, she walks
unseen. She is there but
but leaves no footprints.

Inside of her are feathers of steel,
no ghost of a soul is she.
Life thinks it has beaten
her down, not true.

A sleeping volcano emits
puffs of smoke, belly
rumbles shake the ground.
The woman is awakening and
no longer will be ignored.

She rises like the Phoenix
to become a power to be
reckoned with, co-creator
with the Creator, vibrantly
alive; she steps forward, a
Being of Light is born.