There is a desert inside me – shifting dunes of red and gold that sparkle white bleached bones. They speak of rivers that once cascaded ancient memories, ones folded into the fabric of what was and wait only the breath of awareness.
I try to bridge the gap. I spin the kaleidoscope of what is known of place, of colour.
I open myself to the blade of grass, the teardrop of water, the grain of sand and hear the tales of reflection and change – the compelling voice of shadows and death.
It pulls me down into the deep pattern of beginnings.
Watery streams gulp whale song. Its resonance gathers the collective embrace of every living, organism’s promise and rises in vapour. Air balloons travel across our vast globe and absorb the tenure of screaming sun and annotate years.
Forests have gone. Time cemented the stride of mankind, divided the giving and taking beyond reasonable limits. But still, a small ember flies and touches another, becomes a conflagration of consciousness.
It bursts inside me, roars the name of ‘Life.’
I am no longer barren as it falls on me, in me and resurrects hope.
Vasile Stan, 7 months ago
Wait no longer Reiana, once you opened yourself to the blade of grass, the whole universe poured in. So beautiful poem and so powerful images you are able to create in just few words, very much impressed. In two interchangeable words: wonderfully beautiful.
Reiana, 7 months ago
THanks iCandor for the great comment – glad you like it – I’ve definetly let my heart out ! :)