By | May 1, 2011 at 12:47 pm | One comment

Photo by Merry Wilson

The Universe breathes languidly

in and out

the green sigh of photosynthesis.

Drowsy flowers stretch their petals sunward,

the morning yearns for noon — straight up.

Our star blazes life down upon us.

We are whole in this moment.

I am bending time, of course.

And space, too.

Poets are notorious liars — and thieves.

Don’t leave your brilliant smiles around

for us to craft like ironsmiths

at their glowering anvils.

Don’t send us that look

or we’ll capture it for eons

And we’ll hold you to that moment

expecting you to deliver the goods again, mister,

any time

any place

as long as it’s of our choosing.


It’s about time you made it back,

been dreary here,

saying the least:

I’ve felt like wretched Persephone,

trapped by that old flame-out Hades

(for six pomegranate pips?! —

for the gods’ sake — a girl’s gotta eat!)

six months’ (longer) darkness,

and now (it seems ages)

you’ve pushed through the shades

and thawed my heart —

not to mention the rest of me —



Where was I?

Ah, yes. Extolling Spring.

One Comment

  1. Mona S Casselman (6 years ago)

    Wonderful, Meredith! Made me smile.


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