Bouquet Of Belonging
A nomad wanders
in labyrinthine wasteland
of the denuded life,
desolate,
the sinuous dusty track
takes me nowhere
in the obscure bleak terrain
forlorn.
My soul’s lattice,
entranced,
migrates mystified,
entangled
in the encircling web
of enigmatic conundrum,
asks bemused:
shall I escape
from the debris of delirium,
or
shall I be the enigma,
embedded
in the extant riddle.
I couldn’t decide.
The ingrained imprint
of possessed passion,
indelible,
of the stubborn being
on the weaving wheel
of the demanding time,
winds on its own
out of the tormenting tangle
of the tortuous trail
of the pining past,
transfixed in the horizon
of receding menagerie
of memory,
metamorphosed.
Steered with the promise
of pervading pride,
my beleaguered mind
out of the maze,
shows me the pathway
to the fervent fountain
of euphoric future,
figurative.
With the beat of my heart
I break resolute
the invisible blatant barrier,
impervious,
you’ve built insolent
with the skeleton of seclusion
around the secret garden,
shrouded by the arctic mist
of mind’s winter feelings
frozen.
The baroque buds
supine on the supple saplings,
line your garden path,
wait for the spring.
I saunter there,
suffused sensually
with the seraphic shine
of the sunburst new dawn.
I wish,
before I walk the last mile,
our paths will cross
someday
in the valley of flowers,
entwine eternally
the bouquet of belonging,
epitomized.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
