DREAM III

Through budding portals, my spirit

wanders to the green pool 

of our childhood Springs, sister, 

to the vibrant world 

of the woodland's liquid heart 

yet ringing in dreams

with echoes of the Joy that crowns

life's tenderest Season.

Waters that shall anon return 

to the thirsty blue hold discourse

with tomorrow's rain,

with late April's fluid arms that shall 

cradle their emerald treasures, 

our memories of innocence.

Upon these ripples, we rode the Moon,

made landfall amid rushes and

dew-kissed lily pads, 

berthed upon grassy banks 

when hope's tides grew too immense 

for wings that had long beaten 

to sombre rhythms. 

A displaced seed of Earth merges with

watered light this Dawn,

its dying germ to nourish the water lily's 

roots, to rise into this Springtide's 

radiance upon her alabaster throat,

as the God's golden rays elevate 

the lightless Moon into her silvern realm 

in an eternal ritual of grace and renewal. 

The Circle breathes, sister,

and therein, you live.

© 2016 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: POOL IN THE WOODS

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Artist: George Inness