magnolia

It wasn’t until the weeks before the birth
that she spirited herself onto the page
whole
and blooming

her mind

a magnolia

dislodged
from between
a few stones

flowing

downstream

towards
a
great
cascade

The baby was born before the fall

so the water

lovingly diverted the ornament to

a long-lost stream that was less loud

but just as strong

brimming beneath

the flower’s underbelly

and wedged the soft star
inside another cluster
of earth,
inside
patches of
moss

where the petals
unfurled
and consoled one another

For a time
she feared the waterfall
ultimate and roaring
would dry up

she listened every morning
for the thunder
of its plummet
to be sure it was still brilliant

it never ceased

And soon enough
the current unhinged the blossom from the quiet 

and propelled it back into the main rush of foam

where it spun like a saucer

into the flow of the froth

dancing and skipping

atop the music of the water

glistening and buoyant

until it reached the edge

of the great plunge

and happily dove
into the effervescence

ephemeral
and free

[by Sarah Esmi // published in The Rising Phoenix Review; May 20, 2021]