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.