poetry & things

Mongolian women

These women, they are old

in touch with ancient ways

the dredging of deeper points

they’ve come to know

and show, without hiding

Their faces are worn weathered maps

lines and holy roads

with soulful eyes

smiling they settle

and sit you down

beside them

In their circle of fire and knowing

these women of the earth

serve milky tea and mirth

their laughter resounds

it pounds the heart

grounds you there

in the fervent pureness

of your tears

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