Through windows within windows,
made of pixels, made of glass,
made of minds and made of paper,
everyone was searching at the speed of dust,
to ease the burden at their core.
Wishes within wishes, all queued up at dusk,
some saw walls and mazes,
and some were lost inside themselves,
bound to never find another,
and never by another, to be found.
Those whose mind waves swept them out to sea,
where only lighthouse hopes remain,
were left alone and longing,
while all around, unfathomed
mysteries came and went.
Explain to me, you explainers, I am waiting.
I’d burn a hundred candle flowers,
sprinkle tinsel on my beach-bleached bones,
shred my clichéd thoughts to scatterings of confetti,
forgo the fantasias of the phonograph
as they glide beneath the sharpened thorn,
if you’d teach me to forget.
Doctor Petal admired the varnish on her nails.
Every living thing was created from an incantation.
I made a list, but I’ve misplaced it.
She removed the cushions from the sofa,
and found a single crumpled page.
Ah, the incantations for the candle plants,
I could see that Doctor Petal was gathering
her belongings, and I ruled a line beneath
You’re leaving me, I know that,
and I deserve it. I’m a stereotype,
it’s my meritless self-absorption.
Yes I am, and yes, you do, she replied
with little tact, The invisible is calling me,
but I’ll gift you a remembrance.
She read aloud from her page of incantations,
and a second Doctor Petal materialised,
along with several candle plants.
- Doctor Petal, who has travelled across time, appeared here.
- Arvo Part, Spiegel im Spiegel (1978) youtube
- When the flowers of candle plants burn, the upward thermals scatter their parachute seeds. Fire lilies, described here, are one species.