She sits
Ensconced in chiaroscuro
Liminal being enshrined
In clandestine tableau
Dwelling in ambrosial space
Where silence outspeaks oracles
Her visage, a simulacrum of stillness
Her eyes—merciless auguries—trace steps
Across a landscape where sands of time
Have ebbed and effluxed
Her rictus—
Dare one deem it a smile?
Sibylline curve of lips
Meaning coiled in questions
Neither yielding delight nor despair
A covenant, a susurrus
On the cusp of respiration
Drapery of her vestments
Descends like a pall over the cosmos
Each pleat a wrinkle in a fabric of enigmas
Her hands repose in quiescence
Akin to a river that has mastered
The alchemy of forbearance
Resting as the alabaster of ancients
Invoking the wisdom of aeons
To cradle the weight
Of unspoken truth
Beyond her—
Ah, the wilderness
Panorama of serpentine pathways
Craggy escarpments and placid waters
Yet it is she, not the realm
Who remains the zenith of every gaze
Locus of all mysteries
Paragon of paradox, an eternal sigil
Awakened
By the skilled
Strokes
Of Leonardo Da Vinci's brush
