My muse 2013

She stands at my door,
dripping green water –
a white water-lily
entangled in her matted hair.
Her eyes burn like
red-green fire,
flames leap up
to turn to rainbow dust
in the thin night air.
And she smells,
Oh–
She smells of the black soil
of dense forests
and the crests of foamy waves
of wild seas.
She smells of the slimy algae
of dark pools
and the smooth back
of singing humpbacks.
She waits.
Patiently.
For me
to call
her
in.

Published by theyogicgarden

Writer, gardener, yogi

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