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Ode to Tinker Bell

Thursday, 16. September 2010 17:30

the enso

A blue dragonfly landed on a marsh plant on the bank of a pond.

"Dragonfly IV" by Mark Hiebert

the poem

What if we lived our lives like Tinker Bell?
What if we chose to spread our magic fairy dust
with each flick of the wrist, each wishful thought, each blink
of an eye? What if we applied these confetti sprinkles of light
to any moment or encounter, twinkling like stars
whose brilliance shines even when no one looks at the sky?
What if all we left behind were dust balls of love?
What if these flights were unlimited
by space or time? What if we could transform every thing
by simply blessing it, the cascading starbursts of acceptance
opening all boundaries to knowing
our true being?

Category:Divine, Human | Comments Off | Author:

Compilation #2

Tuesday, 31. August 2010 20:00

the enso

A crepe myrtle tree with pink blooms

"Pink Polka Dots" by marlowe

the compilation

We watched girls in white linen dresses tango in the twilight
while the ferns stood stiff as sentinels and each rose bud
opened to reveal a labyrinth. When we
constructed our truths as elaborately
as our lies, we found what we had been seeking.
Remember? You wrote: we are one.
The blinking Christmas bulbs teased us like
a lighthouse on the shore. A purring kitten,
a cooing dove. Yes, the white flash
of the mockingbird wings announced the illusion.
And the blinds waved in the wind, plastic tassels tinkling
like door chimes that tease us when we depart.
Counting cans of Campbell’s soup, you think of Warhol.
Boxes of Polaroids contain the overflow, the hallowed halls
of our memory, realities we since discarded.
We had planted yellow tulips at the mouth of the river:
a row of torches welcoming, warning. Their leaves
stretched like webbed fingers, like hydras, like tentacles.
Even the widow tree bent under the burden of our griefs.
No, we find what we are seeking by opening our hearts.
Three doves sit on a telephone wire against the turquoise sky
while a helicopter hovers, focused as a dragonfly.
You see the crepe myrtle with its polka dots of pink blooms
and the golden hues of a peach shine like the sunset
This green glass platter reflects a summer pool:
its ripples barely seen, its calm sheen too perfect.
And the swirling tea leaves in your dainty gold
cup? Caught in the tempest we delivered,
its fortune yet untold.

Category:Animal, Human, Mineral, Plant | Comments Off | Author: