The Mad River | Poetry

Lifting the Veil

life is short

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If you live a life in a day, The difference is plain, There’s no doing it again. Fly into the 4th-dimension, With a graceful flutter, And no direction home. The begetting is done on a wing and a prayer So, what is there more when butterflies alight? A mixing of moods in a synaesthetic delight? The finest bouquets mingled today with the light Of the beautiful butterfly? Flower after flower, and time after time, O! I wish I could turn words into wishes. O! I wish our days would rhyme! This evening is so heavy, Day and nights’ penumbras Shine as the butterflies fade and are gone. A final flutter, past my window, a last swan song, For the butterfly, the rose garden is eternity Sweet white flowers above Rain drops cling to petals, wet wings; Mist in the garden hides you As I whisper my absence of you, I see softly seeping nuances of you, Echoes of end of days in Palo Alto, heavy music in the misty air, this stretching of reality, and you, no longer there, In the fading autumn light, with your wings crisp and failing, my memories flare in this living air. With you no longer there, there’s oblivion in the air.

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