Perennial Rose

You search out the vast expanses of my soul like a distant lighthouse.

I am a specter that surrounds you like an innocuous, curious fog.

You peer through my dense mist,

But only perceive my refracted colors.

I am but a prism of fragmented memories,

Fragmented love and beauty, 

Scrambled and donated to the earth.

 

As I evaporate into the newly approaching day,

My eyes become the shimmering sea,

My tears become the sprinkling of a timid storm ,

My hair becomes the dancing blades of grass in the wind,

My body becomes the most sturdy and flexible of tree trunks.

My spirit becomes the mightiest of mountains.

 

With the changing seasons

My emotions and desires are shed like Autumn leaves.

My soul is reborn into a rosebud, 

Pure and innocently hidden behind soft, fragile green skin.

Supported by a sturdy fortress of thorns.

Patiently awaiting the nourishing light of the sun.

It will soon bloom into a perennial rose.

A sacred flower only natures hands may pluck.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Jan Wienen

Thank you

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