A soft-spoken woman knocked gently on the side door of my
Seaside home asking after the glowing tissue blossoms held
elegantly tall and upright in my corner southern garden. Fluorescently white, as if reflecting all the
light in the universe, bright white, the purest essence of absence of all
colour possible—baring no pigment, even in its crinkled shadowed vertical-lined
single petals.
Large and earthy-abundant in pregnant-form, overshadowing
its plain surprisingly stocky stem with its brilliance--sleight of hand, so-to-speak. Not with intentional deception, but with
beauty, elegance and a majesty of being because its integrity demands an
equally determined rootedness to carry it firmly, substantially and gracefully into
the air.
Kat
6 June 2016
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