A Mentor
Sometimes, a woman will appear out of nowhere,
from the mountains, desert, jungle, or sky.
She is both young and old, but she is not your mother, sister or a peer.
She sits in a circle and invites you for a cup of tea.
The moment you accept,
she transforms into a goddess who possesses an ancient soul,
a sharp sense of humor and red hair.
Before you have the chance to evaluate the situation,
you know her presence is sublime, and you submit to her design,
recognizing she is here to teach you something,
hoping the mirror she holds up will deliver you from
a rocky path, a painful past.
This woman is full of wisdom, passion and fire,
and she carries a bag of medicine for bad thoughts.
The medicine is made of feathers, rocks and sticks, has the
energy of eagles, dolphins and wolves.
She brews her recipe and sprinkles it over your head, pours
it into your heart, until you are stewed.
She does her magic and disappears
and you are left wondering, “what happened to our year?”
“I gave you what you needed,” she says. “I am now gone, but I am here.”
pea river journal 
My goodness, Weam, this is extraordinary! It gave me chills. And the woman with red hair I immediately visualized as our mutual friend M., but at the same time she stood for all the mentors in our lives. GREAT poem!
Very beautiful poem, Weam!! Yes, it gave me goosebumps and I could place myself there as you. It brought me to some of my own experiences. Love, love it!