Sweet Summer 1912 John William Waterhouse
Avatar. Hinduism. A manifestation of a deity or released soul in bodily form on earth; an incarnate divine teacher.
No more the crone, she lies alone, basking
in a perpetual summer; soaking
in the sweetness of the scent of roses
and the sleekness of her grey silk clinging.
A sash of russet tied around her waist,
breast-bared and cooling in the sultry heat,
just the sounds of birds and water singing.
This is her one true dream, her avatar.
At peace, restored, her beauty everlasting,
no more the victim, no more the doom, no
more the dread, a victim of life’s vagaries.
She lies, she sleeps, completely lost in love
and dreams of just its pleasing fripperies,
no need for knights in gleaming armouries
to save her from herself. Her self is free,
and flying now, somewhere high above, it
floats at whim and far away from all the
suffering of life and its mendacities
This is my latest Magpie Tale, more can be read here