Grass of Hope
In color flouting leaves, those leaves of times:
In dream as searching for hope another rhymes,
They met the grass, everywhere,the grass of hope;
But neither fate nor faith were set to moral slope.
The trembling leaves were free to kiss the wind
While the postmodern Columbus swore to find
The freedom`s borders with morning quivers,
With shinning heart like golden sharp scissors.
Like the pretzels with seeds of caraway
Passed our serenity and the emeralds` day,
Coiling itself up in the times`shell,
Calling recollections hidden in hell.
Noon of amber color, with old scissors
Is ready to cut the black stripes of tigers,
The moon, and the beard of the Prophet;
But monks cannot endure: Not even a poet.
Breaking away through the walls of reality
Going away from the cold rationality
Entering the realm on the heart`s side
Now was the time to open up your mind.
Was forest covered by guilty silence of mankind?
A rusty axe out of the east perturbed the mind:
If love was true, why liberty was not responsible
And it might mock the saints and hate was possible?
Truths hunt and think upon us. A larger reality:
Feelings were talking about love and brutality
Spirits, beasts, ghosts in a pale path of normality
Taking gentle face of the family, city, mentality;
For once you should not try to shirk the real facts:
The language, beliefs, culture, feelings and acts.
Life is our own real reward and punishment
Living in the woods, kind of self banishment…
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2015
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