Re-group

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

time 

The Sunday Whirl