I have a pond, a tiny one
With crystal like water so little
Each day Lily blooms
And it's a beauty to see it blossom
so elegant...

As sun rises, Lily nudges out
Face to sun standing tall..
And goes stumped down
When Sun gets to set...

With disappearance of sun
My Lily drowns into water
Feeling sad , for seems gone
The one for whom she lives
Each day...and every other day..

Having adored  and wondered
Her love for sun...
My restlessness inquired her...
She just smiled and blushed..!!
With a meaning hidden ...
That I could read....
Every one's love has a reason behind..
Sometimes....
inexpressible ....in words !!
-

Little lily buds look at the sun
they smile and bloom
the morning begins so beautiful.

I worry about yesterday and tomorrow
keep missing out on now.

The more I see,
less I want to say
no longer want to stay.

The days get hotter and hotter
this budding cruel summer
I cannot enjoy the simple flowers
this bed has become my world.

I am tired when I sleep
fatigued awake
I need fresh oxygen to breathe
I've become living bone
all alone.

I.
There was once a tiny, fading lily
Her beauty was diming, merely,
Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia

Where wonders trapped her in deep sorrow
Where the root called her to continue to grow

Standing alone, an existence of solitude
While the white lily shall love in delight , 
Nor weeping alone or shining in an illuminous light . 

II.
Lily desires to live, in a place without pain
But the lily’s life is full of strife and strain

Hey, Rain, did the miracle come?
Look, oyster silver clouds replace dark blue skys

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
As the rain started to fade into the solo song
As the Lily stood while its immunity could run
Who could take one name and lead an ever gain?

Hey, Rain, the miracle came.
Listen, silent whispers shared across the air
and the rain and peacefully landed on Lily.

III.
Out of the deep trauma that every day grew
Out of the rain, the Lily was relieved that someone else knew 

Who makes her wonder,
if the rain didn’t know of the Lily’s
wayward roots
What does the rain want to know,
although the Lily hold them as emotional loot

Aiya Aiya…  Lucia Lucia
Who is Lily as she solely sings alone in the rain?
And her heart is bleeding from the excruciating pain

(a poem for Christina-Taylor Green, who
was born on September 11, 2001 and who
died at age nine, shot to death ...)

Child of 9-11, beloved,
I bring this lily, lay it down
here at your feet, and eiderdown,
and all soft things, for your gentle spirit.
I bring this psalm — I hope you hear it.

Much love I bring — I lay it down
here by your form, which is not you,
but what you left this shell-shocked world
to help us learn what we must do
to save another child like you.

Child of 9-11, I know
you are not here, but watch, afar
from distant stars, where angels rue
the evil things some mortals do.
I also watch; I also rue.

And so I make this pledge and vow:
though I may weep, I will not rest
nor will my pen fail heaven's test
till guns and wars and hate are banned
from every shore, from every land.

Child of 9-11, I grieve
your tender life, cut short ... bereaved,
what can I do, but pledge my life
to saving lives like yours? Belief
in your sweet worth has led me here ...

I give my all: my pen, this tear,
this lily and this eiderdown,
and all soft things my heart can bear;
I bring them to your final bier,
and leave them with my promise, here.

*

Published by The Flea, The Lyric, Copia Posterous, Elizabeth’s Ramblings, Legacy.com and Fullosia Press

Keywords/Tags: Child, beloved, lily, eiderdown, psalm, shooting, gun, violence, massacres, 9-11, evil, NRA, guns, war, wars, hate, hatred

A cat jumps around in the moonlight,
Scared a little sparrow.
A peony flower opens,
her white dress blushed.
A swarm of bees came and went,
Flowers were being embroidered.
A frog is playing the music,
A white lily danced with joy.
A princess on the lake smiled,
Lotus around like knights.
Gently lying in the arms of the water,
Splash! a group of goldfish jumped out.
It's a beautiful paradise.
The moon drew a priceless picture.

She is born of earth.
But the other rejects its own nature.

Her body Is a muse.
But the other has no breath of its own
To inspire.

She opens up
To the rays of the morning.
But the rising of the sun
Does not excite the latter.

She dances
With the whispers of the wind.
But stiff and stifled  
The other is not tickled.

But what of the soft perfume
That lends charm
To even the most common daisies?

What little charm the other has
Are fabricated
By the hands of man

This other
In the struggle
For a life not its own
Is perverted into paralysis
And paralyzed in pretense

She is The Lily of The Valley.
But you are a plastic flower.