MY FRIEND, MY DREAM LOVER, MY HEART, MYSELF
I searched once, for the Sweet Yellow Rose,
Longing to taste it's soft scent on the tip of my tongue,
And to feel the soft dew of it's petals,
On the lining of my heart.
I often cry in the night,
Not for my own lack,
But in fear for the world,
That it would never know the beauty of the Rose,
For I, at least, have seen it in the window of my mind.
I traversed the dreamscapes of this world,
Looking in all cracks and fissures,
Praying that some small sediment,
Would hold and nourish this fantasy flower.
I have lost (given away) hope, for myself,
But not for the essence of life itself,
I have given away (lost) hope, to the Rose,
For the essence of beauty to find her while she slumbers.
To hold her, while she cries,
To laugh with her while she smiles,
To press itself to her when she is cold,
To spin whirligigs around her to drive away the heat,
To burn with the flame of clarity when the darkness settles,
To diffuse the bright burning truths that can scar,
To supplement nourishing love when the world starves her,
To delight at the spirit of the butterfly,
Alit upon her nose as she lay in the field of green and spring,
Let the hope and essence of beauty and love,
Find it's way to you tonight,
Let my warm glow tucked into your heart,
Hold you fast til the morning light.
I can not "be" there, but I am,
I can not "hold" you, but I do,
I can not "love" you, but how can I not,
In a time and place,
Where we are not us,
But merely our true selves,
I would hold you til the answers of the universe are found.
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