dk
Fallen Lotus Petal
Skipping thru the lily pads of my mind, I gather
enchanting ideas like fallen lotus petals, and stuff
them into my pockets, my bra, tie them in my hair.
Later, at most inopportune times one will escape and
become a wish that flutters on gossamer wings, then
crashes with a harsh thud. Over the years, the wishes
have piled up into enormous heaps of strange wings,
eyes, torso’s, parts with breath that sigh and whisper
in my sleep. They are all bits and strips of me, big
and bold and powerful. The stories they tell are full
of tears and laughter, life, death, joy and hope, yet
they are devious liars. Don’t be fooled by inspiring
quips or alluring gestures. The kinship they seek is
of unknown depths with prickly, stickly rules that
entangle and trip up the skip. You may, like me, end
up flailing angels in fallen lotus petals and dreaming
of snowmen.
