Manga Popart Butterfly

Manga Popart Butterfly

Friday, April 28, 2017

Dear Garden:

Newly planted in fresh, organic soil---
the first rain is approaching.

Are your fragrant leaves
quivering in anticipation, or
in naked fear of the unknown?

Does the thunder rattling your roots
cause them to retract defensively or
shiver and expand at the unexpected thrill?

And what of the lightning flashing
like fireworks at midnight?
Are you confounded by illumination
in the obsidian darkness or are you
reaching skyward in eager anticipation
of the sporadic electrified light?

Do you feel the ecstasy of a tiny blossom
becoming a heavy, luscious, red tomato?

Do you recall the dry, embryonic safety
of the seed, the void from whence you came?

And when all your food is taken, ripped
from your stems---do you mourn the loss
or exalt in the hundreds of seeds
you so generously left behind?

O, garden, mirror of all of life,
how I envy your transitory,
fecund life...

Marion Lawless

Friday, April 21, 2017

dear e,

You are the color Indigo
on life's color wheel:
beautiful beyond imagining---
elusive, mysterious & hard to capture...

You are the softest paintbrush
(resting in the old tin peach can)
which paints silken, velvety
red Roses.

Your scarce, illusory words,
like seeing a rare songbird,
fill my hungry heart
and keep it beating strongly.

Thank you
for being---
& for seeing---


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Dear Blank Page:

A day can be the blink of an eye
it can be an endless scream
of pain.

The dragonfly lives for only
a few short months
and it is enough.

Time is too long
and I'm weary of
the battle.

I want to rest in the
ashes of what was me...
where there is no more pain.


Saturday, April 8, 2017

Dear Sunshine: How I love You!!

Look how the hardy Zinnia loves the warm sunlight, reaching longingly, lovingly toward it's life-giving rays!  The ten cent pack of seeds transmogrified into a rainbow of colors, feeding the bees & Hummingbirds & my starving soul...for months on end.  This is vibrant, vivid, colorful, alive...seemingly endless---ENDLESS!!! But, but... the clock is ever ticking on the Zinnia & on you & me...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick.............

...and one fine morning you awake & wander to the Zinnias & sigh with deep sadness because they're desiccated, dry & dying (like me! like you!) & then...dead.  

Does nature mirror life or does life mirror nature?  Everything in nature lives again, seeds dropping wildly, carelessly, like dust to the wind...

I plant trees, herbs, vegetables & flowers obsessively...knowing each new tree will outlive me, but we're plugged into the life force that is endlessly whispering into our ears:  live...