Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

The book before me lay meaningless.
Numbers cropped up
Forming in nervous rhythm
geometric intricacies.
Letters and words converged
in tipsy web-like patterns.
My heart I cupped in my hands
and chasms of loneliness
and aching wounds
turned to tangible bands.

My head I lifted for reasons anywhere.
In the clouds?
Perhaps, in the wind?
With an almost infinite sweep, I dealt
my heart the balm of resignation.
“Tis the mystery of life.
Your destiny you hold in the strife.”

The breeze unbidden
came in and out of my room.
Could my loneliness thus depart?
But the rose!
The lone rose on my table
scattered her yellow-white petals
as the wind unmannered passed by.

Beauty fading away!
Falling!
Vanishing!

One by one
I piled up these unfortunate vestiges of life
to the semblance of the original.
Would that I could keep
in my hands beauty eternal.

Nonsense!
My hands had rendered
the petals a mortal touch.
They withered faster
at the warmth of my clasp.

I awoke as from a dream.
I knew that as some petals vanished from sight
another rose as lovely or lovelier
somewhere bloomed.
Again, in my hands I cupped my heart
a gift from His heart.
Condemned with Him
my offering shall find a lovelier Paradise!

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