A Bend of Magic

“I must have flowers, always, and always.” Claude Monet

“A Bend of Magic”

Stirred by sound and the unsettled pond

A lotus took one look at itself for the first time

How it knew of its own reflection is a deeper

Mystery locked beneath the changeless mire

In-between the whispers of heather and tangled in the

Lost voices of the moors

The lotus leaned into this steel bend of magic

And for the first time, fell in love

Where did it come from? What does it feel?

As alien as its own wan inhabitance

Burning bright, but cool to the touch

So much different from the shallow, muddy waters

So much different from the small, cold drops of rain

Lifting the burden of foul dragonflies and

Persnickety finches

The lotus, under the sun’s mysterial gaze, shivered

It smiled and liked what it saw

The moon must have fell down from the sky!

It did not take an eternity, here, lying

Quite heavily, its last beam, reaching out

While, all around, the water lilies breathed out a sighing scent

The lotus began to hum, pulling the young bees away from

Their pollinating and stilling the waters…

The reality was that the moon was a spoon

How it got there, no one would care to solve

Could have fell off a picnic table

Could have bounced off a dump truck

Nobody would be searching for it now

Now that it was found

In a sublime turn, of events


clburdett 2015



2 thoughts on “A Bend of Magic

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