Good Morning, Moonflower

Let Morning Come

By Marion

Let the river flow

unimpeded, night black,

cradled within

strong, willow-sewn banks.

Let the crickets sing

ancient, mystical

tunes, sweet and time-kissed

into my awakened ears.

Let the moonlady’s silver

beams rain down

and suffuse my

twisted, ominous dreams.

Let the candle flame pull me into

its dancing shadow.  May

the flame illuminate

my jaded, somnolent mind.

Let the rivers flow.

     Let the crickets sing.

           Let the moonlady glimmer.

               Let the candlelight shimmer.

Please, let morning come.

January/April 2012



Early morning sunlight on my Datura Moonflower---

A bee stops by for breakfast---

If it tastes as good as it smells, he's in culinary ecstasy---

A few more minutes of sunlight and the Moonflower will be gone---

xo,

Marion

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"The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms. Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him." ~Auguste Rodin