FOR HOBI

MY BLUE SIDE

 

I pick cyan and myrtle. And hosta lilies

with leaves like cordate seas

lifting the stars’ own lavender fire.

 

I like blue in my green; chartreuse and

shamrock blind me

with their densely exuberant richness,

their confining lushness.

 

I cherish my lone citrine crystal for the

Möbius strip of glacial azure

in its core.

 

I seek a wavelength light with lightness

that imparts a sense of dominion

and holds whispers of flight and echoes

of raindrops.

 

I look for a path of clouds on my kitchen

floor, listen for the soprano

of speedwells in meadow breezes.

 

I count moments of aquamarine in Spring

that dimly touch the horizon

before they rise to peep as forget-me-nots

through Summer’s fleecy,

floating coverlet.

 

I hear its calmest frequencies of faded teal

in ‘sequoia’ raising its spacious

sound into a prayer.

 

I see shades of ocean in the seeker’s hymn,

in notes that perceive things

as more than what they are and all they

could not be.

 

I envision undulations of sapphire, lapis and

and indigo rippling through

eternity, swaddling thought in feeling,

giving it unto form and being, causing heart

and creating mind,

dissolving the momentum of my soul’s unrest.

 

Everything is rendered more beautiful when

suffused with sky.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image 1: twitter.com (@BigHitEnt)

Image 2: commons.wikimedia.org