Devoted

From raised hands, she ushers the spirits

To enter her consciousness, the physique

As her soul communicates with ancestors

Who left her disciples in tears and sorrow.

Is she real or a farce to answer questions

Only others ask when she lets you know 

Secrets you have carefully wished to hide;

For her age is she ripe to read one's mind?

Left to wonder what not to believe in life;

You give credence and contribute to faith!