Child of Tarragon
Innocent young girl lay her down in fields of sunlight
Clouds scroll slowly across the sky as if unsure what shape to take
Time is a parchment but not as durable
Her eyes closed her form gentle, nestled in the curve of the field
She is of this earth yet separate as the soul is separate from the body
Lavender fields nearby, intoxicate the air and as the wind gently changes its persuasion the subtler fragrance of tarragon sways above … sometimes a weird duality of both
It does not take her long to slumber into dreams
Sleep comes easily to the young
Nearby her father stands guard like a sentinel, a soldier, a dissonance of anxiety in the scene but he is not there to destroy tranquillity only to ensure its preservation
A noise crackles in the bushes a snake writhing – an evil malignancy totemic of wild hell even as the serene surrounds are maybe an illusion … but no allusion
He vanishes, vanquished as a dark star eclipsed
An angel touched by the serenity of the canvas unfolded as a tableau looks down and sees only two figures one taller and is unable to distinguish a mother from a father
But he harbours only goodwill in his heart and could take the place of either
A triad firms between them
a trinity
The child awakes and looks up at the sky a transit of colours wash as the afternoon steals by
she feels secure even as the angel had vanished
Melded into the dreamtime invisible but still at her side
Her father takes her hand and they all walk home together
Flynnpoetry 