overnight i turned

into a crone
and instantly dared
to boldly expose
the raw conclusions of my mind
to anyone who desired
a conversation
and instantly chose
silence to be my partner
for most of the time
and speech an event
of firework and celebration
to share with a one
whose soul knew how to rest
in timelessness

looking with comfortable pity
at the illusion of time
I embraced my victimized body
with gratitude for reliable service
and released it into its own way-

does white hair not sparkle
like a crown
are wrinkles not lines
loaded like poems
with inconvenient insight-

is the transparent body
of a well-honed crone
not a mirror
of timeless and spaceless knowing entering
the membranes of each cell

overnight
the old self fell
into the paradox
of a new energy-


-Inge Judd