The scent of lilac
descends,
drifts like distant bird song;
and I breathe in,
step in —
barefooted and perfumed —
on another place and time
as easily as dream,
or memory.
A visitor, now, to that Spring night
when we turned our hands
and faces upward
beneath
the full-flower Moon.
4 Comments
Oh how strange, my visit to the garden this morning, the one thing I did was smell the lilac that is just about to bloom, it’s just beautiful, it’s a white lilac, seeing everything blossom in my garden for the first time is like Christmas as I never know what will appear next!
Enjoy your white lilac! As I walk through our neighborhood, I walk through their scent, disturb the air a little, and carry them with me on my skin for a bit. Nothing else smells like lilac!
This poem almost gives off the scent of lilac. Love that last line!
Thank you! (Confession — “Full Flower Moon” is one of names the full moon might bear when if falls within the month of May…I thought it worked better than “Full Corn Planting Moon” or “Milk Moon”…)