The wind recognizes you rustling through
time in quiet whispers, shifts and
changes its course, allowing morning's
mauve-shadowed murmurs to cover you
as sweet as a newborn's breath. Magnolia's
layered scents mixed with spring
lay upon your shoulders and
the twisted gnarled weeds of time
straighten in prolific bloom
then bow to whom you are.

You are the journal of miles traveled
the miracle of whom you have become
etched upon your face with a master’s fine brush
crowning your head in soft silken threads
brushing your lips with bruised memories
a masterpiece of sublime artistry
residing within a carriage of the soul.

© Marcia Miller-Twiford