A little old woman

In a thin white shawl,

Stepped straight through the column

Of the silver waterfall,

As if the fall of water

Were not anything at all.

I saw her crook her finger,

I heard her sweetly call.

Over stones all green and glossy

I fled and did not fall;

I ran along the river

And through the waterfall,

And that heavy curve of water

Never hindered me at all.

The little old woman

In the thin white shawl

Took my hand and laughed and led me

Down a cool, still hall,

Between two rows of pillars

That were glistening and tall.

At her finger's tap swung open

A wide door in the wall,

And I saw the crystal city

That's behind the waterfall.

Winifred Welles