The found luminaries

The paths are full.
The moon taps me
through the shuttered garden window,
lilting a silvery tune;
its slate face soft
as motes.

Wakefulness hovers
above my eyelids
like a summer lilac,
Stanzas spiral away like
arms of a galaxy.

The essence of fresh-mown lawn
and purpling butterfly bush
entices the walkers to bend,
to check for golden monarchs
unfolding, typographical
blessings to send;
flower tattoos to discern on
muscled calves
beneath tattered hems.

Starlight touches my wrist.
My sandals press into the grass.
I find home, sleepy,
in the friendly crowded

curve of the evening.




Image: Waxing Crescent by Camille Chew

Poem modelled after one I recently read (The Hidden Bakery, by Preeth Ganapathy) in a perfect miniature zen poetry book. A couple of lines also inspired by a post in my WordPress Reader feed, which mentioned the butterfly bush (thanks for the inspo, Eileen!). I did not know it was called that, but there is one on our street, it looks like an indigo lilac (as you can see in the photo on Eileen’s lovely post, called The Monarch Butterfly — do check out her blog, if you haven’t already), and I always stop to marvel at its flowers when I walk past.

I appreciate your kind support more than I can say; thank you so much for reading. <33

14 thoughts on “The found luminaries

  1. Beautiful verses…flower tattoos to discern on muscled calves beneath tattered hems…and.. My sandals press into the grass I find home, sleepy…
    Selection of words is superb. Good one, Lia!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.