Her human hand rises
from springing grass and waves of earth
through nets and webs of air
birds released to a vision of sun and moon
fly higher lighter as the sky
Marisa Sayago, Those Unseen
Who came before
and you thought departed
but here she is
from shades of ash and char
the gloaming between earth and night,
her mouth unspeaking but all-saying,
her gaze a mask.
She lifts an oil lamp to illuminate
yet softens its light to protect your eyes.
She’s come before,
she’ll come again, again
until you understand the message
until you follow
as she turns away.