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Truest Essences Of Purity

She slowly opens her quiescent heart
like the sacred Nymphaea pondweeds
I go there often to watch the snowy egrets
The dead waters ripple as the zephyr kiss's whisper
humming through the papery birch woods

I seen her standing by the covered bridge
The one where we carved a rose blossom
while the mint festival was in full bloom
…fresh picked mint is zestfully aromatic
crisply awakening the flutes of my thoughts
as I recall the prismatic stars kissing her sundress

She dangles her beauty like a rare diamond
softly and gently glistering with sunshine
her lips remind me of fresh picked raspberries
the sweetest nectar I have ever known
She dances with the swallowtails & danaid butterflies
Mimicking the peafowls in seasonal display
She has no idea…not a single vacuous clue
I like to call her Lepidoptera beauty

I seen her standing there
Rushing in like a memoric shadow
as she opens the paragon of her heart
like that of the Nymphaea pondweeds
The one I call the sacred lily
I know I told you about them
Years ago it was…don’t you remember
those perfuming pond flowers
along the old birch road and gravel gourd tree
deep into the woods just past Willow Slough

the bullfrogs are almost lyrical when they sing
where the snowy egrets stand with glorious stillness
as the Kankakee river runs deep and spills over
Like empty promises in disguise muddled by time
humbling my soul with the true st essences of purity…

Can you hear the songs of the splendacious tree crickets?
…oh how I love their rituals…

© Poetry By: Victoria L. McColley