I Am the Scent of Jasmine

I am not the meadows and valleys of your dreams, I am the scent of Jasmine that lingers in the breezes That swirl above them. I am not the golden leaves of autumn spreading a carpet of pleasure at your feet I am a small gust of wind that swirled a single leaf to its earthly bed and danced in your eye. My wings do not soar the blueness of the sky and descend upon the magnolia of your delight. I am only the echo of soprano twitters of morning Thrush That gives awareness to your ear . Nor do I blanket your memories with glittering folds of drifted white. I am a swirl of wind that lifted an icy flake and carved it into a delicate crystal star of lace that will remain in your mind forever. I am not the sun that warms your garden of comfort. I am a current of air that lifted a delicate  butterfly wing to touch every petal of your passion. I am not the beauty of a rose but the taste of honeysuckle that remains on your lips. I do not seek refuge from the darkness of a storm but dance with joy in little puddle splashes which mesmerize you. I do not gush down the twisted ravines through rocks of your ambition but gently splatter puttering drops on the morning window of your awakening. You will not remember me in the grandeur of the tall trees, but in the mountain laurel which marks your footpath and in the fragrance of earth and in the droplets of rain clinging to orange berries of bittersweet. Everything that remains in the memory of your eye, which abides in peace in a corner of your heart or which has lifted your spirit high into billows of white will have come from the wellspring of my love Written March 7th, 2002 © on Mar 06 2002 10:57 PM PST   0 • 8