From the Great Silence

In the days of the great silence
there lived a plain woman
called by the name of Hermosilla.
And it came to pass one day

as she was drawing water from the spring
a brave storm began to rage around her,
circling into funnels in the sky as though
it would bore a hole in the separation of worlds.

As she stared, transfixed, at what took place
above the ground a mighty sword descended
through a cloud of swirling sand,
landing blade-down directly at her feet.

Being ill-apprised of its meaning,
she clasped the hilt in her right hand
and found that it fit as if having been
crafted for the texture of her palm.

She left her bucket unattended
and strode forth, calm, from the spring,
the sword slicing a path through blowing sand
and a harsh wind at her back.