Leafy chambers sculpted from fragile bronze boughs
Nomad clouds rosy behind straw-combed hills
My soul passes through a sapphire chalice
Seeking an untrodden sunlit path to truth
Amid the overwhelming chaos of life
Suddenly I see you in the purple dawn
Blind faces appear in smoked cracked mirrors
Aching with covered eyes to glimpse an angel
But your pale ash face is turned to the sun
Like a seraph weighed down by Phaeton’s wings
I am certain you are my reflection
You are me in the guise of a tired clown
A clown with a happy smile on his face
You emerged from my soul’s leafy chamber
From the flaming sand underneath my feet
You are my double in a cracked looking glass
Who reflects forked shadows and curved planes
I chart my circles of life on ochre dunes
Glancing at zephyr clouds in sacred awe
Warming my hands on dandelion snow globes
I recognized my soul’s winged twin
I saw you lying on feathery grass
I touched your hand and you stirred in your sleep
On a sudden you woke and began speaking
You spoke a strange dialect I didn’t know
But I knew you were part of my essence
I have caught myself crying in fevered dreams
Ached to see my soul of which you were part
You are my spark of unblemished heaven
That opened up a crevice in my being
I get up stumbling in uncreated light
I reach two scrawny hands up to blue fog heaven
I stand on mountains close to the sky
Inhaling gentle clover warmth with my lungs
My heart beats impatient to jump out
Hoping, longing, waiting to see the world
But now I know the twin of my young soul
You are one with me and you will be my guide
Up and down the untrodden paths of men
Somewhere with leaden skies and ashen meadows
Emerald altars fling open their doors
Sugar cone mounds sparkle in sunburnt joy
Juicy rays descend from heaven on gray wings
But I long to read your essence like a book
To glimpse the sunlit heights of apricot skies
I long to catch the spark of beauty that is truth
Or watch coconut snow fall in soft flakes
To rest inside cave chapels of silver blue
Among sapphire stars of newborn beauty
Guided by mighty gusts of warm South winds
I long to sleep in soft angelic warmth
Of childhood dreams and teddy bear smiles
I long to listen to the ringing twilight
On porches with alabaster pineapples
Or rock in rain-washed swings on purple days
Watching white stars fall flashing on August nights
While waiting to enter earthly paradise
With leaden feet I walk down these thorny roads
In aching steps to the place that angels blessed
Up high to altars where birds of passage nest
- Author: Jo March (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 29th, 2020 15:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses, Alan .S. Jeeves
Comments2
I think that this is a wonderful poem Julia. I haven't, yet, read any of your other work but I an on it now. I look forward to enjoying your back catalogue.
Kind regards, Alan
Thank you so much, Alan. I really appreciate it! I was inspired to write this poem while visiting Sussita National Park in Israel this past summer.
Kind regards, Julia
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.