Wreath of Datura - MAGGIE HAO '28

Oh how You carve forests open,

a neverending fever dream—

twisted through smoke and ruin.

And yet, I open my lungs to You,

letting Your gentle breeze carry across burning flowers.

Against Your serene currents,

rushing towards the pull of invisible hands—

sparks fly with every gust.

Nevertheless I rise, desperately chasing You,

after the same flames of indignity.

As I fold into Your zephyr,

embers dance through my veins—

twisting into my ashen chest.

All the same, I grasp at blazing petals,

as my wrists bloom with peony scars.

I can’t help but shiver,

watching the sky grow orange—

the glowing hues of creation.

And still, I pretend not to flinch,

when Your wind finds me again.