Thursday, 28 April 2011
A Desert Rose
I yearn for understanding and yet I fear, I am further from the answers than ever before.
Was it an illusion I felt? Did the fabric deceive me? My soul twisted and torn, left almost forlorn, all just a slight of hand.
Did I just misunderstand? when I opened the door offering trust, showing what I am. Was I measured and found lacking?
I feel the Universe is yoked in irony, is this some cruel joke? That yet again I fall on my face, tasting the dirt and blood intermingling.
As I rise from the earth once again, I wish to look in the eyes of he who judged me harshly. I want to react, but it is not in me.
All I have is my affection, the rest left dropped like shoes shed when running in the grass. I wait for the petals to wilt and fall.
But by some damnation, a divine twisted intervention, it lives still. A desert rose in the wilderness of this small moon.
You have no comprehension, understanding or suggestion. Either that, or a blackened soul of midnight coal free of obligation.
Yet still you have a diamond, stuck in the tread of your soul. It cannot be scratched by your endeavours shining still, I smile.
No dream or delusion, free from restrain of searching. Heart, body, mind and soul singing melodies, only wishing you could see.
(Picture kindly provided by Peter Wilkin with grateful thanks)