she has an altar in her room
reminders of things she’d like to be
a Buddha, a candle, and purified water
her touchstone says happiness
i sensed she was searching outside
for that inner peace she had
somewhere forgotten
compensating, her kitchen
overflows with unique utensils
and cookware of generations
a library of books she’d never read
and art pieces inspiring zen
her gardens groomed
and abundance grows
she sits on a terraced lawn
overseeing her world
around her the mountains
gently embrace her lands
devoted to her children
they have consumed her
she wants to write and draw
compose a book
her grand piano quietly sits
collecting the frames
within which she exists
and tho we’d never met
i could not stop the feeling
i knew her