"The Lotus"

It is the early onset that is the most unnerving. I could find peace with it all perhaps if I had 50 years behind me with glorious memories. But, it is this early onset I have already arrived at. And the discouraged dishearten mood has taken up residence and I become fearful of the hands that are reaching out to touch me. For I know in time I will not remember them. But, I too am subject to it all and I forget as fast as I forget. So I reach to touch and grab again. Oh look at the dress move on her slim frame, oh the bare legs reaching down to the feet that touch the ground. Look at it all. I know I can do this her shoulders wouldn’t fit in my armpit like this if I was not to hold her. But, I forget so easy again.

The Lotus causes forgetfulness how can that be? The lotus is the forgetfulness and the whole time I thought it was I. Oh imbecilic vain me it must be about me. So what of the lotus of the beauty and its beautiful promises. It does everything but betray the heart. In the forgetfulness is the potential, the possibility, there in that first bite and release of what will come next. The opening of the clenched fist, the spread of the legs, the perfection of this beautiful flower, the beautiful pedals spread before you in this muddy murky wake of history. The run off of past lives pooled and the only environment that could spring forth such life such beauty. The forgetful lotus whose leaves are designed to never be touched by the rain, made to only be cleansed and rendered more beautiful. Until plucked by one brave and greedy hand, consumed and devoured for its beauty and of course forgotten.