Yellow Flower Boats for the Goddess
Are we yellow today?
Is this the floating yellow armada of prayers
sent up to the river goddess?
Can we swim amidst these yellow flowers and float free?
Gone are the days of uncluttered streaming
of fresh blue, clear flowing
dissolving into clarity
undisturbed, and unperturbed.
Life is not so simple
or so un-decidedly innocent.
There is a heavy yellowness, of jaune,
a depth of intenseness, bright of colour,
like a field of dandelions,
making clouds of air-borne seeds
self-propagating, blown-away storm clouds.
Clear away these bobbing flowers
cluttering up the water passages
observing from bridges, people,
as if on holiday, waving
clear them all away.
There are no graceful flowers here presented
only cowards amassing under bridges waiting
for the passing of the sages, sailing
into the wild of the ocean's swaying,
some great event presaging, precious,
on the horizon appearing,
imminently splendid over us.
Arriving now, the goddess of the yellow flowers.
Writing by Regina Stemberger
Photo by Tom T