Myrtles In the Mist

Myrtles in the mist Sunlight streaming in An ethereal presence A rainbow of tapestry Little light purple star flowers In the ink green darkness At the heels of the eucalyptus woods A lavender lullaby, wordless Bluebonnet faces shady with sleep A hum of a psalm that is all life throbbing Earth in constant motion An ocean cradle rocking for centuries Apocalypse forever renewed When dew becomes jewel And frost sews its lace A crochet of vines Embroidery of mosses and flora Scent and sound Fragrant rustling of the eucalyptus On the salt-sea breeze Swept off from the dunes The last twinkle in the dusk Quiet flower heads lie in wait Of some ancient memory That may never exist For some long-forgotten harmony And heartbreak Washed in on some far-off shore When the mist of the morning And the mist of the dusk Are indistinguishable When both command and instill A hush and halt A mind-clouding gas Mesmerize and harmonize Some mists are eternal Some a passing glance Emotions and myrtles go hand in hand The mists are the spirits of the earth Myrtles are a lullaby The evening prayer that glows within.