This poem is about tranformation, or the desire for it. It's a bit magical in tone, as it's informed by the Alchemist's concept of the Elixir of Life (with special thanks to fellow poet Jemfyr for the inspiration).
Elixir
By Francis Scudellari
This Elixir of light,
distilled from lime-green tears
of lunar moth
moved by the monthly turning
of his mistress'
full and silvery back,
drops dripped from ducts
to vial, to tongue
and is sealed with pursed lips
that push back the fluorescent
waves washing down
to stir a still larval heart...
stretching, yawning, a flame.
Dancing particles
of iridescent powder
carried on one thousand tiny wings
twirl back through my mouth
to enliven a sleep-thicketed forest
with the fluttered speaking
of her name
3 comments:
Aspects of levity~ With the touch of a fingertip, painted journey of transforming~ Breathed on wings, green grandeur~
Well spoken and shared at the most deepest level - Your poem is part of the magic - of one creation that allows the next to be concieved; In which, after nudging the particulate aside, we expose the very essence of who we are, who we still may be, and perhaps of greater impotance...Who we were...It is a synchronicity of words, a beautiful dabbling in the light that touches us all but is noticed by so few.
Enjoyed this very much ~*~
Best regards,
~J~
@Jemfyr A very poetic comment in itself.
@Anon Thanks for the very kind remarks... I just wish the dabbling was noticed by a few more :).
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