Not of this world, they come

Not of this world, she came with souvenirs from home:
visions, premonitions of those she’d known, of things to be.
She moved with ease from collective past through far fantasy
to future certainty with an uncanny clarity
of present-day promise, modern calamity.

Strange sounds often erupted, spewed forth from fair mouth
as she sought to communicate message of great import.
When understood, proclamations drew unforeseen retort.
Some saw strange, saintly woman-child endowed with wisdom vast,
extraordinary genius; others – schemer with no past,
sent to lure them from self to which they clung as truth.

They watched in wonder as she seemed to hover, still
above ordinary cares, concerns, thinking on such things
that would never have occurred to them. With silvery wings
invisible she traveled gracefully, at her leisure,
spoke with conviction, confident of her sudden seizure
of reason revealed. And, lo, they became afraid.

Preying upon innocence, distinct “other-ness,”
lack of exterior resistance, they pushed her beyond
shores of understanding, denying that fulfilling bond
of belonging, soul gift of life on Earth she longed to know.
Further isolated, she drifted, carrying in tow
piercing wounds that refused to heal… and loneliness.

Speeding cycle of decline flung her off into
baffling state between here, there, nowhere, now and evermore –
until one plucked her from vine of the failed, forgotten, poor
in spirit, rich in possibility. He lifted her
upon wind of unexpected love until she was sure
of ground for breach birth into blue world wearisome.

Then, when she entered a room, energy shifted
and proved palpable. Penetrating hum hung in the air
and, though conversation yet continued, all eyes looked there
momentarily as if in unconditioned reflex
to breathe in angelic presence, welcome blessing or hex,
long as they could savor truth’s beauty embodied.

Yet, as human hearts are not so pure, they soon cooled to her.
They accused, condemned, ridiculed, carried out their shunning,
leaving her speechless, her message now suspended, stunning
heaven as they dressed her in cloak of shame to hide their sin,
hung signs around her neck with words she could not comprehend.

And in the end she became in their eyes what they
would have her be. At last she found belonging in distant
realm reserved for those most real (whose lives are but an instant) –
community of triumphant souls who’d passed earthly test
followed winding, narrow way, stayed ever true , done their best.
Not of this world, they come with souvenirs from home.