My Future Self
“looking back, I’m ashamed of what I was
I’m different now, though not without flaws
Each crest becomes a trough, as we move on
God slowly steers soul towards a new dawn” Unseeking Seeker
Life is like a revolving carousel,
moving in interminable circles,
revealing rainbow arcs
when clouds cloak
the silver-stringed alchemy
floating above rivers
rippling with rhinestone ruins.
And time has been a blunt mentor,
ticking truths to guide us
to a sphere of silence,
where, in stillness, we allow
the flow of nature to be
the soporific voice,
reverberating reality with
healing laws and lessons
from musical minutes
rushing through vintage
leaves and blooming buds.
I remember I was once
a stringless parachute
lost within the brutal blows
of manipulative monsters,
intoxicated by self-destruction,
while currents of crashing tides
pushed me upon the crisp cusps
of darkness and despair.
I’ve surfed through deceptive waters
surrounded by the venomous
spines of scorpionfish
and poisonous urchins,
which stung my vulnerable psyche,
submerging me in a sea cave
of splintered sapphires
and spiteful souvenirs.
There, I saw no colors of clarity,
and swirled to the vicious tunes
sung by turquoise tentacles,
oblivious to the flicker
of comic light that sparkles
with faith amidst ice-green
lies spoken in familiar accents.
For I was chained
with pearls and diamonds,
dressed in glistening greed
and superficial remnants,
disconnected from the
sacred symphonies within my soul.
But as the midnight glow
of the divine moon envelops
my skin like chiffon lace,
veiling the shame
tattooed in burgundy
across sleeping skies,
I close my eyes, tread
along an astral path,
purifying my flawed aura,
rinsing away tarnished topaz,
as seraphic gems adorning twilight
unfold an awakening in
the most hypnotic rhythm.
“O beloved almighty, forgive my
fatigued heart
tangled in unseasoned fears.
Today I shall surrender
to the blissful blues
and zestful hues,
burying my fragile ego
six feet beneath, where I waltz,
as I embrace the
chorus of chrysanthemum anthems,
no longer dwelling in drowsiness,
for in this realm of spirituality,
I feel sanctified jasmines
delicately illuminate my senses
with tulsi tranquility.”
On the quest to find
my true twin flame,
I’ve found flares of faith
resurrecting the burnt cosmos
within my consciousness.
So here I weave an ode
to the seventh garden of Zen,
perfumed with pristine peace.
I am now the reflection of the
shimmering face
of an ethereal crescent,
still nurturing wilted wisterias,
with patience and mindfulness.
Copyright © Ink Empress | Year Posted 2024
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