Tuesday, November 11, 2008

gather thee

gather thee your shadows close in embrace
clench them all in arms softly crossed
they singular each are yours these blooms
as red lover’s roses bouquets a plenty

though the thorns may bite your arms
and draw the blood of your body
draw quick the breaths of thy spirit
whispering of your only self

each drop seeps velvet red of the petals
these blossoms each opening in slow awaken
turning towards a sun rising anew
dispel twilight seen in with the dawning

each shadow a delicate blooming present
delicate in darkness soft and full
with colour’s kiss, emotion and scent
a gift of clear presence unfettered peace

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