Mystical Being

It’s been a while since I have posted. For many of us life was upended with the virus epidemic, job losses, losses beyond what we could ever have imagined. As life ever so slowly edges back to some sort of normalcy (what will that look like), we may begin to engage in things that gave us joy. This is a poem about a unique place that a father created for his daughter who died long before her time. The photograph is from this place and was created by this father. I call it the “Mystical Being”.

Blue eyes, mystical, other worldly
Mystical Being
There is a place like no other, 
Its space exudes serenity and peace.
Created from love for a daughter, 
Too young her life did cease.

Acres of gardens and brilliant flowers,
Assorted sculptures crafted by hand.
Baubles and bubbles fill the air, 
Placed here and there unplanned.

One being stands quietly seeing,
Is it human or sent from above?
Man or woman hard to tell,
Certainly it watches all in love.

Gold tipped leaves and braided hair,
Stream from pale chiseled features.
Eyes of deep blue pools of ocean,
Is it one of world's great teachers?

Stand and stare in amazement,
Want to know what lies behind
Those beautiful blue mystical eyes,
Wanting to ask what is in its mind.
                                 ---Peggie Strachan