Windward Side, a poem by Carla Mahle

One day I went atraipsing down to Windward Side.
There was a full moon blazing; the ocean at low tide.
I’d found a wild hair and convinced it was my night,
I went down to Windward grabbing everything in sight
As I was gadding all about, for twas all a lark to me,
I stumbled into an alleyway, far too dark to see.
I saw, when my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom,
I was in no alley but a tattered smoky room.
Sitting in the far corner on a faded flower rug
Was a wrinkled old woman, her hand cupped around a mug.
Just as I glimpsed her, she beckoned me come near.
So I strutted on over, for what had I to fear.
I stood before her and she motioned me to sit
But I wanted t’know where I was and I’s taking none of it.
I was about to ask if my prankster friends were back in town
But instead, to my astonishment, I just sat right down.
I seemed to know what was to come, though we spoke not at all
For that was no mug in her hands but a crystal ball.
She reached out with her wrinkled paws, took my hands in hers,
Placed them on the milky sphere and the clouds began to stir.
“Don’t be afeared, my sweet,” she said, “I know what you’re looking for.
Unhappy with what you have at home, you’re looking to find more.
But I see no tall, dark stranger in your future trail
Nor, in truth, fame or riches, can I tell you of in detail.
Nor can I promise only happiness will be your destiny
But then, do you want the truth or only what you’d like to see?”
So I reached into myself to find out what I wanted to know
Then looked up and told her what I wished she would show
“Welcome to Windward Side,” she said, and her eyes took on a glow.
“Few choose windward to be the direction they want to go.
Now look into the crystal ball and to your future you’ll see the key.”
So I took a deep breath and peered inside, almost afraid to see.
Then..A figure took shape that I recognized and surprised as could be
I gasped…as I beheld the key…the key to my destiny, you see,
The figure was familiar because what I saw was me.