Enigma: Echolalia
Just a girl child, just a woman.
After all's said or done - a human
running through open mind fields
patched with white wheat yield.
Seeds sown groan-grown
piecemeal pockets among throngs
of lilies leaping up in colour song
acapella red, blue, orange, pink
white, yellow - genes garbled ink
across a fertile landscape thrown.
Solomon's glory dethroned.
Symmetry of beauty and form
reflection repeats patterns torn
straight out of tangled bloodlines -
ancestral kaleidoscope redefines
her story as she turns stones
over in a search for the unknown
undistilled divine. Pretty pigments
pile on palette, ready for the brush
with life and death's indifferent
strokes. Will her touchstone crush
Springtime fractals fresh new green?
Old patterns mirror reversion - silkscreen
repeats on new fabric, and paper sheets
are tailor made paper boat fleets
for furious fight and fragile flight.
Sins of the father float her form downstream,
Times gorge rips apart her heart upstream.
Rock hard walls bounce back sing-song
lament and lullaby echoes out of sight...
Today's throes can't dent the past long gone.
Polyphonic sounds stream her away
in rhythmic rituals from day to day...
Hope will not fade to whispers feather light,
further on in future's distant sight.
In sunrise sky life flies up proud-
Her heart echo beats in time, are loud.
Doves and Eagles, lowly or great in their own just right,
know no fear of unknown depths or unknown heights.
Airfields are heaven high above, or on earth below...
Wingtips merely move over heads of wheat,
While lily leaves are sunshields in the heat.
Aqua Marine. Just Musing.
Posted 3rd November 2024.
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