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.
Copyright © Ina Goodling | Year Posted 2023
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