It wasn’t what she thought it would be,

this quiet life.

A procession of cacophonous color

in the garden,

praises the dew of the morning,

turns toward the star of light.

The heady fragrance of rosemary

a reminder of incense.

Genuflecting to grasp an errant weed,

hands clasped around it,

she is enveloped in the passion of life.

Kneeling reverently,

a soft murmur of prayer

protects as the psalms

reveal the portions of life.

The incantation of birds after rain,

heads bowed,

seeking lifeblood from the chalice

within the blooms.

Morsels from the soil sustain

each creature,

in pilgrimage or travail.

Heads lift toward paradise,

the sun shimmers through leaves like

votives entreating for eternal life.

Rising, consumed and sated

She recedes in contemplation.


April Center, a retired attorney, is a poet and memoirist. Always a writer, Center believes the support she has from her writing community has been instrumental in creativity and confidence. She lives on the southern tip of Lake Michigan in a cottage with her pets.

Author: authorbios

The literary journal dedicated only to author bios.

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