Trillium Tra La La

Trillium at Tryon Creek

                                                                                                           

So simple, this triumvirate

of leaves, petals, sepals

that rises from the humus of winter.

Modest beauty, virgin of the forest,

your petals fluting like white tongues

of the Holy Ghost. I can hear the

wood nymphs chanting your name

in the damp shadows

beneath Obie’s Bridge.

You offer your root, a sacred herb,

to cast spells of love

to calm the birth of a child

or to soothe eyes scarred by

what they did not choose to see.

Wake-robin, bath-flower, Indian shamrock

I kneel down to inhale your essence

talcum scent of mother

borne from the dark earth.

                                                                                                  ©Margaret Chula 2009