I am placing rose petals in the crossroads,
molding forms that the past has left behind
for me to find and re-sculpt anew,
continuously shaping fresh ciphers,
waiting for spirits to fill the lines.
But upon finding, feeling your soul,
I desired to melt those icons into the fire,
for you outshine the lead and bronze
with an unmistakably familiar strength and mystery.
Our souls absorbed each other,
blending into an eternal fragrance
of blossoms, waiting to open
in a futuristic sunrise.
My blood and semen spills
into soil, sand, shells and saltwater,
mixing together a sacred creation:
a house of earth and bones
hardened in the Sun,
softened by the Rain -
a crimson soil of premonition.
Remain in this house, my Love,
or please simply let me leave.
Either help to reinforce the Temple walls,
or let them wash away
as reflections in the golden river....
and if so
the silt will wash back out to sea,
the silt will wash back out to sea
as a Rosicrucian embrace, all the same.
*This is an edited version of a poem that I originally wrote
on July 9th, 2010