Day Of The Iris

The Day of the Iris

For me, irises figure predominantly as a symbol of magical creativity. Somewhere along the line I read that this was so, and so I took it to be.

One sunny day at the beginning of that first summer, my future husband arrived at the door with an abundant bouquet of irises just picked from his parents’ garden. All blues, purples and whites they were, long-stemmed and luscious in their joyful opulence. And was it just before or just after, my sister gifted me with a small journal on the cover of which was a most-mystical Merlin in his deep-blue, star-spangled robe, framed by irises aplenty? This was the theme of 1984 for me and not the brave new world of Aldous Huxley. Hence the nature of the poem below, originally lyrics woven into a melody, eh presto a song!

The Day of the Iris

Calling through rolled gold

and prairie blue

throwing all

caution to the wind
bearing seeds

of a message to you
the day of the iris

begins

The youngest borne

of twilight

with a voice

of gentle persuasion

tense tied tongue

unwinding

soft power

communication

Daughter of the Law of One
blood singing

Earth song

heading to the House of Light
would you care to walk

a little way along?

hey, would you care to walk

along?

Oh so shy

but also dazzled
by spacious mind

and pure intent
like Odysseus

and Mentor

such friends must be

heaven sent

Brainstorming

tumbleweeds
rolling with reams

of rhymes and reasons

hungry now

for a flash of your feedback

in this

the blooming season

Calling through rolled gold

and prairie blue

throwing all caution

to the wind
bearing seeds

of a message to you
the day of the Iris

begins

© Anne Beverly Brown 1985

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