If you were all water (and you mostly are) Alpine pure, gentle as dandelion seeds, strong as hummingbird inspections, their beaks pointing at your third eye, mistaking for a moment your face for a sunflower, you would remember as well as any elephant every electromagnetic spectrum communication you’ve ever overheard. You would remember what a deep freeze you made of Walden Pond during Underground Railroad winter days, your depth of ice thoroughly measured by Thoreau, and you would remember those light waves of joy from liberated feet crossing over you spreading their exhilarating breaths of bliss. And if you were one of the liberated, you would know – oh, Honey, you would know – it was your time to bloom! You would feel the surging life force unfurl your never-before goldenly proportioned spiral of Amaryllis petals, the truth of the one and only you born to spread diversity, creating real unity spoken by your petals in their various dark velvet appearances similar to, yet not the same as, others wearing night’s equity into day. And that yellow spark of light in your eyes, scattering seeds, planting trees, reorganizing cells until the shining pours out of your skin – that yellow spark of light would be pollen radiating the dust of your new star –
M. Ann Reed grew up with the early Irish Mayo Medical Community valuing holistic medical care, hospitality, compassion and the arts in medicine. She taught English Literature and Theory of Knowledge in Traditional Eastern European and Asian cultures that consider literature a medical art. Various literary arts journals are home to her poems such as the Jungian Psychological Perspectives, Antithesis Literary Arts Journal of Melbourne University, AZURE: A Journal of Literary Thought, and Eastern Iowa Review. Finishing Line Press recently released her chapbook, 'making oxygen, remaining inside this pure hollow note.”