She presses each petal
gently into the tissue paper
the scent of magnolia
and tears intermingle
a delicate imbalance
of love and loss
Traces of what was
in danger of being
lost in this moment of
bittersweet turned to brine
Each gentle petal
so alive in color
so soft in touch
clinging to life
at threshold of death
She knows later
the petals will
crush, dry with age
but for now they
are alive in
a salty scented bath
so precaution must
be given to keep
equilibrium infused
into the process
But the memories
associated with each petal
tip the balance
words passing silently
on her lips
images, like snapshots
of their fingers intertwined
must ultimately be laid down
forgotten
as soon as she
closes the book
allows time to compress
the petals, the memories,
the words, the images
Days turn into months
months into more months
finally she can bear
to let it all go
She follows the path
to the stream with
moss covered rocks
mist rising in the air
tosses each piece until
all is washed away























Comments: 45
Artistic Therapy!
Connie is so right about what she shared on this poetic piece. And YOU are AMAZING lady!
Thank you for your very kind words. And thank you for the features
Blessings to you, and I hope to be seeing a lot more of your writings & poetics.
Blessings,
Rene
Thanks for posting to the Crushed Leaves Wall on The Triple Name Club where it's now featured.
I do understand your love for them.
xx
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Carol - thank you for the feature!
Your words pour out like tea scented with jasmine and sweetened with honey.
Thank you submitting to Gathers Luminous Writers and Artists. Now Featured.
Thank you so much for your touching comment and for the feature, Stephen.
Finding a pressed flower is like finding a note or a personal signature in a book....
Amazing choice of words. Such power in a few words.
xoxox