So this Crone was talking to me
superciliously
you know, out of the side of her mouth,
in a roundabout sneaky
on the sly sort of jab way
gibbering about a trip she made
to this famous place
this mountainous edifice
a public place of historical significance
she said there was this old man there
living at the base of the hill
who tried to exact a toll from unwary travelers
She was quite full of herself
and her intimate knowledge
of all things spiritual
as Crones often are
and bursting with her ego
she scoffed at his ploy
and walked past him
laughing
I wondered at her
for she was in a strange land
looking down upon this man
all full of her "old ways" and old stories
her control
and I wondered why she wouldn't think
for even a second
to pay the old man for a tour
of HIS landmark
hear HIS stories
the stories and fables and legends
that don't always make it to the plaques
erected by conquerors
It's like that way with books you see
books can be like the old man
a guide
some people are grateful
for a guide who knows the way
and the stories
And when they return
they don't need the map anymore
but it helped them once
to find out quickly
if they were really on the right mountain...
Some people don't want an old man to guide them
just like some distrust an old crone
but sometimes if you look closer
behind the disguise
there may be
a pool of knowledge
silent
and wise
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