“It’s Magic,”

The Millefleur of Consciousness

Derelict, yet,

as I lie down to rest and close my eyes,

I see, for the second time,

the solitaire flowering of my soul

filling the void of darkness.

Yesterday a lotus of fire

raised its petals of flame.

Now a rose of white veiling

curls openly throughout

the sea of darkness

I see into with my eyes closed.

My attention glides and noses

through the deeps of this cupping

undulance of petals

like a fish gleaming in its element.

In midlife I am seeing

for the first time

into the opening heart

of the lotus, the rose,

the flowering essence

and basis of conscious life

usually obscured now

by a reality littered with facts.

What if we were all to learn

how to lie down to

our flowering natures each day?

the infinite flowerings of light

any seer sees?

And why not?

We all have it in us.

I think of the wired Hispanic boy

in special ed class about to throw

a tantrum as the day begins.

I stick my face in front of his

and whisper, “Close your eyes

and see something pretty.

What do you see?”

“A flower,” he says softly,

a smile crossing his face.

I let it grow in silence awhile.

“It’s magic,” I say, “You see that?”

He nods. Clearly he does see that.

Throughout the day

if he forgets his flower

all I have to do is

throw him a look and

the flower magic works again.

No muss, no fuss.

Just a conspiracy of light and love

and play at work.

No wonder medieval tapestries

pave the world with millefleurs,

the million flowers that grow

out of our footprints whenever

we tread like angels with each other.

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© Janet K Bloom 2010. All Rights Reserved.