You are standing in a meadow,
it is lush green,
the kind people talk about
from the other side.
Life swells in pockets;
a city of daisies,
a bumblebee filling it’s knees,
tall tulips swaying in the breeze,
a buried village in the undergrowth
ants, woodlice and centipedes.
Sunshine weighs heavy
on your back,
on your shoulders,
your eyes water
and you cannot understand
what has brought you here;
to the edge of life in colour,
swimming in jewelled flowers,
the taste of pollen on your lips,
petals embracing the sun
the smell of hope –
poisonous joy.
You could step forward,
bare foot, unguarded
risking your soul for a chance
to choose the flowers
you adorn your home with.
Behind you is a forest,
shadowy fingers lingering
about your waist
stretching toward your throat,
to regain a firm hold
on your senses and pull
you into the shade.
Life thrives here too, but unseen;
amber eyes becoming accustomed
to the night sky,
families burrow in the roots of great oaks,
hedgehogs find homes in autumn debris,
birds call and mate in the trees,
in the dust of your footsteps.
When you began, it was a stroll,
an amble into the unknown.
It grew dark with heavy boughs
as heavy as your chest,
threatening to end all light,
snuff out the life
under your collarbone.
At times you walked through clearings
and on the trees you saw her face,
theirs and mine
but never yours.
Now you’re here, still standing
in a meadow
wondering what brought you
to this quiet place.
In the blue sky
there is the reflection of a man
beckoning you forward.
He is kind,
he dreams in orange and purple,
he believes in love,
he has led you here
past our faces embedded in bark
to see yours, for once,
in the blinding sun.
misterkaki 