Fulcrum Of A Rose
The northern wind sweeps away with the arctic gale
the swathing grandeur of my mesmerizing garden.
The pallid patina of the distressed florid petals
freezes beneath the withering frost of discontent.
Seraphic spring saunters in the air with ripples of rapture
from the garden of Eden up above the veil of blue.
The spectrum of hues cascades in splendored shower,
as the latent beauty blooms in a rose of my listless garden.
From its verdant vibrancy flows with scented fervor
the musical resonance of the serenading breeze.
Its captivating cadence set in harmonic congruence
hinges the enticing fragrance of rose in dulcet dawn.
The self-obsessed free will dormant in floral exuberance
envelopes the blooming mind with an unreal veil transient,
obscures the ordained pathway God’s benevolence paves,
that l need to travel for it’s designed for me at His will.
The unseen glow of the omnipresent light
floods my possessed essence, but I don’t discern,
for I formulate life’s tenets encompassing the ego
in the ignorant realm of fantasized self-deception.
After the ill-conceived venture the errant mind
finds the gloomy path of introspection lightened,
as the secret door of the inner sanctum opens,
where suffused with divine light the lotus blooms.
Unshackled out of the dark abyss of despair,
I take the inward journey through consciousness layers,
perceive the radiant fulcrum of divine beacon in the soul
illumine the corridor, leading to the abode of bliss.
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