Sunday, January 19, 2020

The Gift

This gift.. is a curse.
This lifting veil, my demise
Vast, radiant, open, forever
Step into the blue beyond
Like waves of blissful sunset
Blending nastalgia with the heat

Before embarking
I must plow the fields
Reap the fruit, and scatter
The plentiful harvest
All along the laden lands
Upon both servant and treasurer

This all cosuming night
Has become an all cosuming flame
Illuminating every fiber of an emptied heart
Scattering wishes to an evening breeze
Embracing all that is, while...
Recollecting what has yet to be

This gift is my curse
In a triple spiral universe
I stand in the central passage
Delivering what was mine all along

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