Monday, August 1, 2011

Chrysanthemum [part one]

I feel the weight of angst in my bones as I walk across the floor. It clings to me, even as I try and shake its grip- it poisons me, even as I move to dose its flames. It is a hunger, as much as it is a feast of stale bread. My eyes can see where I've been, but many times not where I should go. What should I make of this? Especially as I dream of so many great things? I hold fast to you...these ideas will emerge from the dust and rubble of failed trials. The cave was where I found comfort- in almost certain disarray, as I walked with lanterns fading, and body tiring. All I had was a vision of you my dear, all pretty and proud and so near. I called your name at the dawn of the evening, and oh how I sought its sound.
I thought how to pray, to seek his face- as I wash with water, I feel his embrace. I see through broken eyes, the perfection of surrender and as I reach out- I take hold.