Gems Growing

Receive to feel reception, drifting through memories,

advertising life. I hold her in essence, shoulders tingling,

mourning the pit of love. We feel it to know it, wrestling

with thorns, proud to have achieved it. I love her come

destruction, waving flags, in honor of a dream. She

stands so aloof, grieving mishaps, somewhat afflicting

self. I nurture something hidden, sudden agitation, where

a soul makes contact. In this we praise, eyes teary,

sudden to reappear. Where have we gone: a brief trip,

were lotuses mingle with vines. There’s a gem, studded in

pains, mining for wisdom. I whistle her name, chant her

soul, to fill her with rubies. Fate is often fair in unfairness,

where light contains darkness, particles of knitted fey.

I love her come destruction, pruning tulips, feeling

motion. We dance, fraught with worth, as humble as bees.

Our nights toss with turns, colored in shadows now foreseen.