Re-group
This is the mystic magic of some mothers and some memories and the power of hibiscus blossoms
I recall the hibiscus blossom -
scarlet as you run to me through
the mist of years -there might as
well be the clear crystal chime
of a bell when you jump into
my open arms and touch me
with a scarlet blossom baby kiss -
I feel the velvet of your cheek
the reaching of dimpled hands
for me - in that time of new bloom
- no threat thrums for any in
this hibiscus- blossom world -
From time to time I cross to
this dream that is not a dream
and once again stand in the
vaccuumed space of time -
sunshined joy spilling...
enough
to last
a life
