The depths of being human
You were words on a screen, from a place far, far away.
I didn’t really know what you looked like.
And I didn’t really care.
You were a fearless sixteen year old, astride her horse.
And a grandmother with purple hair.
A giver of gifts, magical and rare.
With a deep understanding of psychic pain
From the kind of loss no one could quite explain
You fill empty wells with love
And set souls free…