7th Generation

She is home,
She is adventure.
She is passionate love laced with ill temper.
Like a martini;
Shaken not stirred,
Steady yet shifting like wind on a flying bird.
Gather here like thoughts and swirling smoke,
As the feathers scatter, they all laugh at her jokes.
Controlled chaos, whats right and what's wrong?
Misinterpreted like the words in a song.
A lyric, a verse, a long forgotten tune,
Even the sun has to share it's light with the moon.
Darkness so lonely but not hopeless all Of the time,
Looking for a familiar  rhythm and praying it all rhymes.