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Writer's pictureMalu Baumgarten

The Valley

Updated: Sep 11, 2020

an intoxicating perfume of wild roses

lingers in the valley

shades of green and blue

flowers that hang like

translucid droplets.

secrets live deep within there,

in the valley

there’s a tree with massive roots

they dig into the earth and search for the sea

where my mother lives now

transmuted in water, turtle, seaweed,

ashes of my ashes, dust of my love

my mother.

in the valley the flowers dream, white and placid

the brook dreams, serene in its liquid course,

I walk in silence and my eyes are green

and drowning in translucid droplets

my big brown eyes, sad as the eyes of a sad horse

they weep.

there’s a tree in the valley

its branches so long they touch the sky

the little ghost flowers around the tree

dance, for there, from the roots that grow into the water

a seed has come forth and reaches up

to the sheltering sky.

in the tenuous light, I see my mother

transmuted in greens and blues and wild roses

warm and witty, full of laughter, brave as she is, and kind

I see my mother in the eyes blue and green of my daughter,

bright as she is in a world without clocks

she is.

Texto e imagens ©Malu Baumgarten - todos os direitos reservados à autora

Text and images ©Malu Baumgarten - all rights reserved

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