by Victoria Wenke about a year ago in nature poetry

Fountain of Youth


Fresh air swarms,

bottled up inside a cocoon with a door,

with a window beside window,

making passage to flooding rays

swimming in from that great star

that we reach, stretching petals and

leaves and stems.

If only we were a little longer we could touch

the mother flame

but glorious is that star that warms us from afar,

reaching, stretching her rays to fall upon faces

in that window beside window, brother and sister

stretch, basking in a bath of golden light,

the fountain of youth

not in years but in spirit—

Toss a penny in the light beside the casted shadow

watch as it burns and ignites and disappears.

The mother flame tasting copper,

knowing of desire

and birthing survival.

nature poetry
How does it work?
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Victoria Wenke

Enjoy where you are now.

In love with nature and the world around me, forever searching for the words to describe it.

See all posts by Victoria Wenke