Roots of Paradise
Fabrice Poussin
The scent is familiar as the first breath of every dawn
it permeates the corridor to the king’s domain
a room warm with a most recent feast.
Years come rushing back in a single moment
musty smell of the ancient wooden cabinets
aroma of the meals of eternal Sundays.
But the soul is too small for many lifetimes
trinkets left over the rows of dusty shelves
journeys to lands close and far away.
The power is invincible of this undying past
pulling in the actors of so many performances
into this space where destinies were made.
The festivities continue in the memories of all
the air is thick with visitors and guests
where they find the roots of paradise.