Saturday, 05 November 2016
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Silent flakes of pure sand slips from the open palm in the wind, settling embers of time, land gently on petals of flame. A respite afforded, a moment’s pause to breathe deeply the stillness.
Roaring beauty and majesty of a single solitary rose, the pride of the sandy plain. The crimson fire sway and the beating heart as the last grains are blown and the hand holding them now stands empty.
Hallow is thy will, to stand alone defiant in the sparse parched desert, drinking in the sadness. Let the night’s sky bring forth the light from which dreams awaken. Hail then to thee as even now the nectar of your virtue is touch with the sand. Here even as their twinkling luminescence rains the dust of souls from the heavens, your petals bloom still drink the ashes of sorrow.
Etched you are in the small pages of my heart, a bold shaft of hope in a path of pain. Delicate and vulnerable like the waves softly touching the fallen log, its bark long eroded by the salty water, leaving it so pure and innocent.
A few droplets of water shared with this treasured flower, it trails down the stem like a trail of a tear stained cheek. Let the water and sand from my hand give you a small morsel of time to show your beauty before you wither and fade, and give what life you have to the birthing of many, but never will you fade from my memory, you are a path to redemption of which I dare not ask. A passage for me to return, and a place within the psyche of my being, a way home.
Guard no more, fight no more, be no longer afraid, for all is lost and from here whence everything is taken, true joy is but a distance far beyond reach, my journey dawn beckons, soon now is the time for my departure, to the gentle rose I can give one last word.
Goodbye.
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Matt Shadowsong posted @ 23:14 -
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