top of page


Wild Lily Quote

       from poet and author

       Emily Isaacson



The touch of a king
would condescend to heal;
if one was touched
one hundred times,
one would turn into a princess.


If you had loved
so dearly, the beloved:
the early sky, a dark jewel
in domes of foreign temples.


Their hands clasped,
knees tightly bent,
a burning sword
thrust between
the mind and soul;
and the deepened heart
will arise in the splendour
of modesty.


One million children
stand at the gates
of their straw village,
asking to be let through:
to where the golden bird
welcomes dawn,
the translucent orb of sun-star
crossing the sky
from morning to sunset;
I tend my mantra of gardens
just before dusk . . .

The glass of time, so fragile,
and cloven antelope hooves
upon the sand:
tidings meant to clothe despair with
purity, the oils of acacia
and eucalyptus.


Glassy water
in the riverbed, too dry;
the speaking of the white raven,
and unheard silence:
my memorized word
so clear and vibrant—
to a diseased room.


What enchantment
shall I break to heal you?
O ebony soul, caught within
the prisons of deformity
and the sepulcher
of infertility and pain:
Peace.


The kiss of wisdom
is a touch piece,
and the dying,
healed do ascend.

Emily Isaacson, "Spiritual Touch" Hallmark

bottom of page