Friday, 9 February 2018

Until heaven came true

If this was the last poem
I ever wrote
I'd sink down on my knees
lick the grass clean
and rest my cheek
on the cool taste of green.
I'd roll onto my back
and stare at the sky
fill my eyes with blue
until heaven came true.
The sun would seep
into my skin
setting me aflame
with sparks of rebirth
frazzling my edges
until I returned to the earth.
The seed of me
would again take root
and I would tendril
where words hang as fruit.
I would wash myself
in chlorophyl and breathe
so deep that daisies
would chain me a welcome wreath.
Then poems would drift
dew onto my petals white
and settle into the yellow centered sun
where the heart of me lives on forever,
plus one.

mj poem & photo

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