Melissa is a Daisy

Melissa is a daisy in a garden
Threaded through her roots,
A village of collective minds beneath her shell.
Assorted ethnic backgrounds compile her stem
But her joy starves her dialect,
A sublime paradox of earth.
The flowers in her head predict a gradual illumination
Fearful of a stomach through a cluster of herbivores
And the varying showers of social structure
Sprouts a weed in her genetics,
Pulling up all the lies she’s been told
To sprout a elegant daisy,
And we’re all dancing in this garden -
The crowd of sprouted flowers
Of which I call my home
Growing older than the golden afternoon,
And I am just a gardener of consciousness in their eyes
A bee of a developing breeze
Struck the heart of rationalism,
And our noble death will grow like jasmine.
We’re buried among the lilies
To escape our bodies and our petals,
But the shell of the garden continued to sing a luminous dawn
And this distinct parallel remains only a shadow of our identity.

Melissa is a Daisy

Jennifer Kelmar

Middlebury, United States

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