I wrapped my arms around her small framed shoulders. She walked barefoot, both swiftly and skillfully, across the swamplands that were filled with snapping alligators. I was afraid and I felt too heavy for her aged body to carry me to safety. I also feared that I was a burden to her. I needed her, but my heart ached with pity as I felt that I must have weighed heavily upon her senescent and fragile body.
She lowered me to safety in a corn maze and instructed me to keep my eyes fastened to the illuminate cross upon the hilltop. She told me that I would find what I needed to nourish my tired and weary soul there. She encouraged me to know that I would also find answers to the questions that I had been seeking in my heart of hearts upon reaching the hilltop. Her eyes danced with admiration of our journey that had been a long one, shared together. Her laughter revealed that she was delighted to at last make her self known to me.
As she vanished, I recall the feeling of a deep inner void, a soulful yearning being fulfilled. Though I could no longer see her with my natural eyes, I would forever have her essence, her presence and her vehement passion etched into my psyche. Together, she and I became the crone. Together, we became every wild woman that was, that is and is to come.