breathing long taken breaths
ocean pump heart
has no tired dismay,
brittle sand empties
breaking the vast silence
congealed brightness brought,
tenderness and ambivalence
white day out of mind
nothing seemed apparent,
thought flaps
as tattered curtains
taking no form,
bound by scent of incense
raising valiant blood fires,
almost holy,
freedom is an enduring harvest
that comes with water and prayers,
starlit beneath moaning sea
keep the disturbing flowers
to the edges of the room,
eastern carpets become thin
weave and weft,
show the dazed
feet can be placed assured,
no fear,
out of machines
comes the resonance we do
not want,
need time to look back
as the glass now empty,
by the light of a tremulous candle
all the unwanted scurries
as the shuffle of feet
leaves their exhaustion
clinging to the air,
they could of been
kings of the world
Your form here is perfect.
Such a lovely work…It flows…
ambivalence
That last line reminds me very much of the film; The Man Who Would King. I think it starred Sean Connery as the ‘king’ but in the end the blood drawn of one bite labeled him very much human…
Is it only in fantasy that we are not (human)?
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/09/sunday-whirl-76-feeding-souls.html