Little Meg Fallon is a beautiful one
only when compared to none.
An airy look about her face,
a different kind of inhuman grace.
She is quiet and alone all of her days,
unable to navigate the social maze.
Instructors find her strange to teach,
a quicksilver mind they just can’t reach.
But little Meg knows deep in her heart
lessons worth learning require an art;
a stillness of soul at which she excels;
a talent for reading natural spells.
Education came in a secret way,
while in a snow-bound wood one day.
The exquisite drifting of the flakes that fell
imparted a knowledge she never will tell.
Such patterns she saw by sitting so still
will never be transferred to paper by quill.
The teachings of books and lectures dry
cannot touch what is taught by watching the sky.
An instructor as vast as the atmosphere,
open to children with the talent to hear.
So little Meg reads what nature has written
and smiles to herself like a satisfied kitten.