Her Autism

Free of Culture’s
Overwhelming and Burgeoning demands
The world became an open book
A wondrous place
Watched with clear eyes now

She ignores the news
The problems and expectations
That had never fed her soul
She looks instead
To the earth and sky

She walks on cold dew
And gazes with pleasure again
At white-capped purple mountains
Golden meadows
Shimmering in light

The stately green trees
Tease and cradle her spirit
As it soars free and lightly
In clear blue skies
With the birds she feeds

She understands now
Why the horses always know her
And love her more than people
Riding the wind
Is better by far

A simple label
Opened a world for her anew
That doesn’t judge awkwardness
Or unseen stupid social cues
Just unfettr’d freedom
Self-understanding

The chains that bound her
Fell away like shattered glass
Ugliness explained, washed away
People can’t hurt her now
Her mind is clear
Her heart forgiveness

Her flowers flourish
As she walks, touching, tending
The garden gives it’s blessing
Her Mountain Home
Embraces her gifts

The glittering golden sunlight
Shines warmth on her secret smile
For she is free to love again
Free to be happy
Free to be herself.

-Faye Martin