The path was straight and narrow
Instructions loud and clear..
All she had to do was follow
Directions without fear.
Her life, like a roadmap
Already laid out for her
With tried and tested guidelines
To which she had to adhere.
But,
Her spirit was airy and light
Disposed to take a flight;
Falling outside the narrow path,
Thrilling her, but inviting wrath…
Being judged at every step she took,
Disapproved of everywhere she would look
Ignoring the dissenting voices
She stood beside her non-conformist choices.
And then,
Accolades and adulation came her way
Women from distant lands would say
How she had inspired them all
To follow their heart’s true call.
But she was always looking back
At home, for approval from the pack:
Reassurance that the path she chose
Did not mean that the doors were closed…
Never accepted by those close to her
She was treated by them as an outcast
Such was the irony of her life,
The life of an iconoclast.
