I will tell you a story of a little lost soul

Who climbed a very high pole

I will tell you of a lass who was born

Worthless and dire and utterly forlorn

I will tell you of a child all alone

Down to her dirty clothes loosely sewn

She would sit by the pavement and stare at the sky

Often wondering why oh why

Until one night she found a flower

Deep in the forest where most men cower

It glowed in the moonlight illuminating the earth

Then it struck her, “I know my worth!”

She sat by the flower humming a tune

A feeling growing inside her in the light of the moon

A sense so endless it reached the ends of the earth

And she remembered her mother and birth

It spread out to fingers and down to her toes

Even reaching the end of her nose

When an idea struck her from out of nowhere

The wire inside her made her aware

It burned like the roots of all the trees

And sung like the song of the bees

She felt the earth between her toes

As the winter came and the land froze

The snow drops fell one by one

Glistening and dancing in the sun

She watched in awe as her world grew white

With a burning glare and endless might

She stood in the dirt through the frost

Now she was no longer lost

She watched the world in every mood

Loving her always in quiet solitude

She didn’t shift or move at all

Instead she grew rather tall

She breathed the air with the leaves

As silent and stealthy as the thieves

Her arms hung like the wings of birds

While roots grew down splitting in thirds

Her hair became a silvery hue

As she held secrets only she knew

The longer she stood in silent motion

The more she felt her inner life’s potion

Receiving messages from the void

Like a cellist unemployed

Then singing back her own tune

Reflecting off the silver moon

The sun would send her song near and far

Like an optic flying car bouncing off every star

But through the void where space is flat

She bends time like a rug on which the cat sat

Her heart gives a shuddering rumble

As time and space begin to fumble

In this great cosmic soup

Which twists and moans into a loop

Round and round her song goes on

And then she releases a gaping yawn

From deep within the great nothing

Came to bear something.