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