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  • Writer's picturelperskie

Leyla

Her eyes are elated moons

peering through tassels of hair-

a zephyr surrounds her

creating a hum

she is

hypnotic in her confident freedom


She leads me

with soft padding steps

through sweet summer grass

to the firm root hills of a tree

where pebbles are laid

in a pattern -miniature monuments

markers of the path

and sacred ground


This is where they live-

we kneel before a structure

like a tiny shinto shrine

whose roof is made of dried leaves

delicately balanced over twigs


‘They are in here’

she pokes her finger into

a burrow under the shrine

reverently revealing the

entrance to the fairies’

realm


Can I see them?

No,

they come out much too early


Are they are a certain color?

No, they are all different colors

and their bellies glow-

only she can see them


Yet I catch a glimpse of them

in her round solemn eyes

browner then the earth

but open as sky


Her unbounded faith

her power to be supernatural

invite me

to be present and feel

the gems of joy

from the breath of her imagination.



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