ESTRANGED
Pearls were no less luminescent a light, I yearned to see
Even so, with your sharp elfin words, I might partially agree
Finding little in our pastimes other than a narcissus sword
As if the very dissemblance of our thoughts are in accord
What would it take for you to accept but a noble surrendering.
Would that lead to a tranquil peace, or gentleness bring?
Such 'weakness; each of us would idly resolve to dismiss.
If we ourselves were embittered, with a resistant kiss;
When we cannot find the means to open understanding
Shielding, the survivor: to be the last one standing.
Or it is to ignite knowledge; and its flame to continue
Take each wish and willpower will eventually subdue.
All those who find their hearts desire to seek intervention,
In breaking down harshness and softening intention.
Usually the ones most gentle avoid unkindness or offending.
Ruminating struggles, releasing, and comprehending.
Take this tiredness, that has cost me everything, unsecured;
Frustrations at difficulties endured, of which I am reassured.
Who would have known that our own illusions melt disbelief,
When shared, I realise, to yearn to be free and now what relief.
I take long steps that skip, and then jump, alive - a promenade.
Step by step, higher I discover the rise, then razed colonnade.
Dancing then pausing, to think and finally sauntering.
Wasn't this sepulchre place, one I lost; once again discovering?
Then here is the small paper boat, only a child could board.
The long voyage contemplated as ropes fell away, unmoored.
Wind-kissed innocence sank into flower-filled ships bow,
To follow the seagulls flight yonder into the starry show.
In my memory those moments seem clear, and unchanged;
Where friends could never be foes, nor love estranged.
The angels voice that described the place I called home,
In despair or hope, to return, 'till then I may roam.
There would be no fear or unruly, un-mended distress,
If lightening strikes silver, in Life's ocean of softness.
Oh blessed are the foundlings three: whose yearnings cherish hope.
The stars or apple pips we see, those wizened blind Fates scope.
Copyright©Xsapph
1 comments:
Great piece. Much talent in the verse.
Post a Comment