Oh
for joy, to bundle souls, as rich as religion; and hearts to
flame,
stirring sadness, kindled by a spark. We die between
grit
and logic, fallin’ in stillness. I love you living, fixed in
physics,
and touching stars. Oh for faith, ever a generator, a
grand
pulsation. I broke a harp, strumming love, found in a
rose
garden. You spoke of dreams, and gold guitars, gracing
a
canvas. We lived and died, wrapped in samsara,
a flaming
kiss.
I woke for passions, grieving measures, to rake for
essence.
Oh for ache and burn, a vest of pits, digging for
exits.
Its yarrow buds, and yellow-bells, flooding into an
ocean.
We rose an island, scented in daisies, streaming in
fevers.
Oh for voice, a naked soul, engraved in essence. We
turn
for light, and churn for love, scraping at joy. What for
life,
a fleeting breath, flickering fuses; but oh for love, and
inching
joy, an aster’s kef. We live it torn, to break a mirror,
and
shattered images. Oh for soul, and jasmine tears, raining
through
a garden; for joy is art, and joy is breath, racing
through a
moment.
