Paradise / At Maits Rest Australia by Anna Citrino

Paradise

We paused at the crossroad that cloud covered morning, 

debating whether the road would be what it promised,

“Paradise Valley.” We read the sign through the mist,

and decided to turn.

 

A long green path scattered with foxglove, 

buttercups, and tumbled with wild roses sauntered 

down tree covered hills to fall gently into a quiet stream. 

Bright blue-headed birds darted between branches 

to balance on long grass strands leaning 

over quiet mirrored pools.

 

Enveloped in spicy eucalyptus mist,

we wandered beneath swooping crimson rosellas,

leapt across steppingstones, looped through 

moss bearded tree ferns to the end of the path

where we stood between fallen logs below 

slick black stone, water sliding softly over.

 

Tonight when I look up into your face

amidst the room’s soft light, I think of that road

and the choice we made to turn down it, not knowing.

And yes, it is paradise—more alive with beauty

than we ever suspected.

At Maits Rest Australia

 

The myrtle trees

toss their confetti leaves

into the afternoon light’s gentle lap,

dot the misty air with a celebration 

of green pointillist delight.

 

Lifted out of the dry desert,

we shake the dust from our heads 

and drop into the cascading downpour 

of leaves falling into crevices, covering 

the faerie hollows and leprechaun dance floors.

 

Slowly, we wander deeper and deeper

into the canyons of color, happy 

to be caught in the wet world of life.

Anna Citrino is the author of A Space Between, and Buoyant,  Saudade, and To Find a River. You can find her going for walks near the coast or biking on paths through a forest where she lives in Sonoma County. Read more of her writing at annacitrino.com.