SPRING DAY

BUD

 

A Tree gives forth a Bud.

 

Somewhere, somewhen dreams hold

April’s child as she draws

circles in the grass around herself

with the green spearpoint

of a Branch bleeding palest pink froth…

 

A fragile defiance marks her bearing,

her twirling dance of framing

a fragment of blossoming spacetime,

of claiming a moment or

Season that slows to mirror her steps.

 

A Tree fells a Bud.

 

Lost Springs mingle with the salt in my

blood, circling into strands

deeper and stronger than those that

wove our life threads and the

pulsing passage of breath and warmth

that binds our mutual making.

 

Fingers reach through the years into our

forever Hour to catch its light

that glides over our hair,

gilding the fragrant air into an aureole

that keeps our paradise.

 

A Tree fails a Bud.

 

Memory whitens into the past; its elation

dims. Its silence pervades her

scentless clothes and waiting hairbrush.

Reality floats…or fades.

The eye is an insufficient anchor and

bridge through Time.

 

They tell of gravitational waves, listening

for reflected sounds of the

ancient Universe, the everywhere,

everywhen music of cosmic dust and

starbirth that paints into wholeness what

vision construes past light-years.

 

The Branch shall not fail the Bud.

 

I muster our echoes to colour our dreams,

that my soul may rise through

desolation into a higher pain, to your plane,

where Branch and Bud meet

in their forever Hour.

 

© 2021 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

 

Image: LITTLE GIRL BALLERINA IN FLOWERS, DREAMING

Artist: Kimberly A.P.

Source: saatchiart.com