First stone

In the season

of my birth ,

was a time of

deep snows moon

Silent streams

motionless lakes

Just like bare

poplar limbs

I too

searched – for light of life ,

hidden in safety

in a woman’s arms

On the forth day ,

while winds

of the world

danced pirouette –

in celebration

Clearing paths ,

for a new

Women in raven scarves

whispered

signalled

fuelled the fires

and plotted

When would they cast

the very first stone

Secret was out

(C) Copyright,Dinka Bednjacic

17. 09 . 2016.