Prayers to the Muse - Pagan Poetry Forum
This Time
And I sat as a blue lion
Tired and confused
Reality frighteningly near
Vast purple marks blossoming on my neck
Like bruised roses
Lips still tingling
beyond belief or sensation am I
Contently disturbed and still
Distubingly content
And still even though the stillness
Blossoms behind my eyelids
Like forgotten breeds of dying flowers
I, here,
I hear
that voice issuing forth from the rose-tumor causing
lips
And am turned again
and again
Until I am back
at the beginning
Sitting silently in the stillness
A blue lion
Rebecca Marquis
