She Has No Discernible Voice. Yet.

She has no discernible voice. Yet.
Her sparkly eyes speak for her.
Ordinary minds avert their gaze.
Unimaginative voices refuse to hear hers.
Her voice offends their senses.
They insist she quell her primal yawp.
She is our humanity laid bare.

I speak about her, but not for her.
We have barely scratched the surface of her mind.
If she speaks, we gain entry into
a richly veined interior world.
She cackles at the futility of
their deny ability.
They are ill equipped to comprehend her intellect.
They deny expression of mind but not of spirit.


Her education is our education.
She is both teacher and trickster.
Her tale is one seemingly told by an idiot.
Her smile and eyes refute that.
Considered mental, she refuses to step aside.
She will not disappear into the woodwork.