Without a wish in my heart
I stare at glen's pinnacle.
The end of the yellow brick road shakes my weary hand.
Without a knot in my throat
I gaze past a forgotten dell's innocence.
The beginning of a backward's journey has just begun.
The fairy tale was a lie.
The epic had no moral.
The brook is a silent Shangrila preserved for me.
Lost and wandering.
One guardian angel became lost.
Sherlock Holmes failed upon her obvious whereabouts.
Zanphilia speaks to no one.
She combs her hair with honey -
Looking for her forgotten Echo in disenchanted streams.
A goddess of philosophy.
A virgin removed from the claws of Zeus
Needing to baptize herself within salvations's waters.
I see my perfected wings.
I don't see the lustrous beauty beyond them;
I envision the ignorance of clandestine laughter.
The crocus shimmer.
The woodlands set the winds into symphonic overtures.
The morals Aesop needed to write disappeared.
I am Mother Nature.
My name is Zanphilia.
I am omnipresent.
I surround you.
My actions warrant no excuses.
I accept no apologies or prayers.
Speak to me anytime you desire.
Reflections are oft captivating.
Written by: Kory Calhoun
Written for: ~~Constance La France~~ A Rambling Poet's contest~~
Copyright © Kory Calhoun | Year Posted 2011