<b>Isis, Lady of Petals from Isis and Osiris by Jonathon Cott Epilogue: A Night in a Garden of Spain</b> From Isis and Osiris by Jonathon Cott

*Jonathon Cott is a favorite writer of mine. I just wish to share his beautiful poem for it inspires and touches the heart.


Isis, Lady of Petals from Isis and Osiris by Jonathon Cott Epilogue: A Night in a Garden of Spain

From Isis and Osiris by Jonathon Cott









(These photos are the Alhambra in Granada Spain...the gardens and buildings)

(The Photo below is North Africa... Tangiers... which can be seen from Spain).




Epilogue: A Night in a Garden of Spain


ISIS (Lady of Petals)

Lady of Petals,
gone into the Underworld
trying to find the perfect flower---
white or yellow, with streaks
of pink in candlelight----
softer than the linen on your golden body,
adorned with every star of heaven---
mirror on your forehead
serpents by your side---whatever you are called---
Diana...Demeter,
Ishtar.. Isis-----
one breathes your perfumed air
through nights of sweetest sleep
until your mirror becomes the sun,
and I wake up----
like a face lost in the light,
like a voice lost in the wind,
like a heart lost in flowers.

2.

This scent----
purer than the odor of your neck,
stronger than the sound of the letters of your name


Inhaling deeply,
holding my breath,
I turn myself into the inside and the outside of your being

This scent dissolving me

3.
By the terrace light
through the blinds
of the hotel room
I watch your eyes
Closed all night long
and in the shadows
Listen to the wind
Listen to the trees
Listen to the sea

4.
On a hot night
you bring me here
to the edge of the sea,
and point to a ghostly aura
(the lights of Tangier across the water)

Years ago,
across the waters,
I sat with friends at the outdoor Cafe Arabe
smoking kif in pipes,
drinking mint tea with orange blossoms
and looking across the waters
toward us in the future

You were only seven years old then,
with dark, wide open eyes----
staring straight ahead----
and now you leave me here,
alone in this world,
with the trees going mad in the wind.

5.
Whenever you leave
I can't remember
what you look like
anymore

(Only your scent
in the palms of my hands)

6.
They say that God is a bud of jasmine
planted in the heart,
Every night I used to feel it,
coming up
from the roots.
I would stand very still in the dark,
my arms outstretched,
waiting in the air...
until one night,
from nowhere,
a breeze of kindness startled me,
I started moving
(just a little)---
branches trembling,
petals falling,
scent rising----
and then I closed my eyes,
I let my fragrance take me anywhere,
I heard my heart beat everywhere

7.

Every night,
in humidity and heat,
a breeze sends the smell of jasmine
across the southern tourist towns,
till everything is still,
everyone insensible----
a realm of opiated sighs----
except for those who hold
white and yellow petals
(with streaks of pink by moonlight)
in the palms of their hands
and calmly walk the empty, darkened streets---
holding hands in silence
until each petal falls or scatters in a breeze...
as one blows off into the hills---
above the shouts and noise returning to the town----
where one bell ringing, tired donkey
notices a shining petal lodged inside some roots,
works it with his teeth,
chews it patiently
takes a breath,
inhales its fragrance...
then looks up past his blinders
and watches night's sky opening into light
and sees, inside, She Who Makes the Universe Spin Round...
Mistress of the Living... Mistress of the Dead...
Lady of Breath and Splendor...Lady of the Deep----
mirror on her forehead,
serpents by her side:
and She is always smiling,
unending jasmine petals falling from her hair.