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Poem
As the mediterranean torrents 
thawed away this wildflower of Medusa ~
once roaring in merciless thunders, 
now, I'm found swaying,
midst lemongrass fields ~
conversing with freshwater naiads
for, every weed is a storyteller
      swirling in fountains of saffron and sage,
 separate from the roots that sing hesitance...

Wearing a tiara of time,
sleeves laced with stars ~
crawling upon the bittersweet bones,
like glitters of cinnamon glazed spells ~
 and the wand of destiny glowing
  in frolicking fingertips of jasmine-gold gloves,
 I'm the phase of periwinkle-plum peace
in the crepuscular crevices of cosmos...
  as existence turns to esoteric embers ~
serenading in space with blue lotus meteors,
 I'll be an enlightened elegy of poetic elixirs,
scripting elegance in mulberry-leaf marrows...
for, there's never ~
 meditation without musings,
    silence without symphonies,
      catharsis without pain,
          and wisdom without weariness...

"the spirit in me
aches to blossom ~
unfurling fragile wings
as they whisper and flutter,
lightyears burnt to stardust...
those edenic hues of pashmina rose
shed solace in the arms of Lord ~
as they cradle my furry heart
in acrylic mandalas,
where the shades of sacrifice sigh...
my champagne lips
no longer tremble
to twist the truths ~
when hours became hoaxed,
so that the sun in me, 
can forevermore, breathe..."

As faithful fairies conjure every confusion
from the haze of head to the hyacinths of heart, 
 is the soul, lurking in lores laced with lilacs,
    an ambrosial linking between ~
those melodies that melt and fade
  on the hand-painted moments of today ~
carelessly unfurling from the citrus creases
 which shall be sung as bliss, beyond those
   time-tamed saints of tomorrows...?

A queen without her crown,
is still embellished with royal luminescence
draped in aquamarine armour ~ 
 she is a breath of boldness, sharpened glory 
birthed from those crystal caterpillar hues
  between life and death...
     
Unleashing the claret coos of cynical seeds,
I keep hanging on the cusp of confetti clovers ~
choreographing honeyed healing,
   as innate vibrance is animated ~
in mocktail inks of psychedelic fantasies...
  
I'm a droplet of nirvana in ruby afterglows,
    swinging upon telepathic twigs ~
twinning with the tears of tulip-moon,
 when those icy-grape auroras disperse
a million mists of bohemian branches ~
where miracles are not enslaved,
 to the mint marigolds of mystery and betrayal.
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