I mill around. In the pollinated petals. On gusty breezes, which rue malfeasance. That turn the turbine of mine start. Toward a loving blossom meadow’s yearn. Like fine flower’s need within, for a taste of uplifted heart. That only with time, good; savoury — bred a rose.
I mill around. Agitated and unsettled. A fizz of yeasts, and a fell allegiance. Far from the wellsprung baker’s cart. Is my urge to resist the feel of loss’s burn. Like fine flour’s knead within, for a taste of uplifted heart. That only with thyme; good, savoury — bread arose.
Nighttime shadow thieves stole my gleam Once upon a cerulean Moon.
They bobbed and weaved awash with greed.
With my one carnelian jewel.
A crimson and green festoon Was it’s bed of leaves.
The sweetest berries I exhumed To give comfort, ease.
While guile in eyes of theirs did loom.
My jewel is not a gemstone rare Or, a precious piece of art.
But it means a lot to me in care Because it is my heart.
Without it, I wander in aimless air.
Without it, I’m lost, apart.
Nighttime shadow thieves Alight their maddest schemes With the gleam Tore from my chest away.
By spite in Adder’s teeth Bites tight a damedest deed In my dreams Scorned poison left decays.
I’m weary, and I’m battle torn From eerie, bent, grappled horns That they used to pierce my slumber.
Unclearly in gravelled spawn Their fearly, well-travelled cause Cast grey ooze that steered me under.
I returned each night to retrieve my jewel My torso agape and open I was urged to fight with those twilight fools That yearned to forsake me broken.
But I turned from spite and their actions cruel I know they take from me a token Of brilliant light which signifies renewal Like, the beating ache in hearts awoken.
And, now, I see Why they took my heart For their eyes, they could not open.
Inevitably, your moments of; heartache, and, jubilation, sorrow, and, raucous laughter, will be momentary brushstrokes, of humanising colour, on an eternal, universal, canvas. It does not matter, if, post-use, your sapient, vehicular, corpus is; burnt, buried, or, embalmed. Every; thought, behaviour, and, action, made, in all conscience, must be accounted for, on your soul’s departure, from Gaia.
Just as, an ancient, Egyptian heart, must weigh, equal to, or, less than, the sacred feather of Ma’at. And, St. Peter’s keys, will only allow entrance, to the righteous, at the pearly gates, of the kingdom of heaven. The bearer of the soul, has, not only the mystical responsibility, but, the metaphysical obligation, and, duty, to be; morally and intrinsically: good.
Goodness is paramount to a clean conscience, and, more importantly, a clean soul. Spiritual; cleanliness, wholesomeness, and, goodness, are imperative, in order for the soul to continue, peacefully, on it’s supranatural journey, along the Milky Way, and, onto, the perpetual realms of yonder.
And, when, all is said, and, done, as your life, in all it’s ubiquity, magically, propels before you – like a feature film, or, flip-book, composed of; your natural essence, transfigured by, the shifting sands of time – will you be pleased with, how you; formed opinions, treated others, and, lived your life?
Or, will your soul, be burdened by; sin, loathing, and, regret? Forced to recount, every; hateful decision, every misinformed opinion, and, every missed opportunity, to form healthy human, and, spiritual bonds?
Your familial bloodline, and, genetics, may carry forth, or, they may not – that is, ultimately, out of your control. Yet, your opportunity to contribute, as many beautiful brushstrokes, to this; galactic masterpiece, as your life permits, is perfectly, within your grasp. And, in contributing with good; heart, mind, and, conscience, you enable your soul’s interstellar travel, to the stars; smooth, succinct, and, better yet, truly astounding.
All bonds, of virtue, that bind, righteously, will endure armageddon – not only, sororal, and, fraternal. Your body, will grow, languid, and, old, but, if wholesome, your soul, will spring eternal. And, while your body, may be, lost at sea, cremated in flames, or buried within Earth’s crust. Your before, your presence, and, your beyond, are, permanently crafted, by the moulded creation, of life, in stardust.
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