Querencia
Old poem #4
Sunlight beams down incandescent rays
filling the warm air with the intoxicating smell
of roasted fruit and dewy grass
Wind ripples leaves
rich and bright with chlorophyll
Cicadas create a chorus with the chirping of birds
and the high harmony of grasshoppers
Miles of fruit-laden boughs
lush ground refracting the hues of the morning
Clouds all the mysterious colors of pearl
and shapes of the imagination
Oh yes, an Elysian all for herself
She moves to brush a strand of amber from her lashes,
fingertips grazing frayed fabric of the ebony ribbon
laced ever so carefully among the cluster of her waves
Forest eyes perusing pages resting on her lap
each flapping and fighting to be turned by the wind
Images dancing before her vision
far off lands and greater unknowns
People with stories worth telling
and earths so unlike her own
Lost
lost in the majesty of the collision of space and time
Captured in dried, unmoving ink
transportation transcending limits of matter
Apples scattered on the green carpet beneath her forgotten
the orchard around her unseen
Yet thousands of worlds fill her mind
her paradise
If only for a moment
in time