Narcissus

Randi Neville

Spring is when

the air smells

of narcissus,

and you wonder

if the Earth

gazes upon itself.

Does she drown

in her own pools?

Falling deep

into cenotes

full of mystical promises

of a world beyond this one.

Does she know

the depths

of her glory?

Her canyons carved

of rivers’ force,

her redwood towers

of ancient times,

her mountains,

stealing breaths,

aloft aloft aloft

in the atmosphere?

Or is she blissfully ignorant?

Life spinning forth,

unknowing herself.

Unaware of the life

she’s given:

the promises of rainbows,

the quench of dew,

the striking scent of petrichor,

all aldehydes, spiky in the nose.

Can she hear

the echoes of life

abundant in her?

Can she hear when

we sing her praises?

When the smell of narcissus,

verdurous but soft,

tickles the air,

maybe then,

she knows.

Published in Issue No. 10, Manus Aeternum, July 1st, 2025.

Randi Neville (she/they) is a disabled queer writer originally from Conroe, Texas. They are currently working on their first novel and continuing their poetic journey. Their interests include watching pro-wrestling, watercolor painting, and being the world's best aunt. They are previously published in Coffee People Zine, Every Body Magazine, Haunted Portal Magazine, The Ana, and forthcoming in The Listening Eye. They currently reside in Houston, Texas with their family. Find them on socials: @RandiTheAuthor.