Meditation – ahorsealone

Forward

My elegy births a war

Though it conceived

An idea of hope.

And we wondered,

‘What was beautiful?’ ,

Growing through the loom

Of a departed life.

What was beautiful?

It was hope,

To be free of wants

And profits of our souls.

I am the moment which lives through your breath.
And if skipped will pray the joys of death.

Feel me as you feel all the relived lost,
That you see me at a memories cost.

I will be waiting in times emptiness,
Where we will be born of our childishness.

And we are swept away in soft silence,
Clothed by a language of our past instance.

In the ruins of disenchantment
Parrables of suffering
Lay amongst the orchids of beauty.

Here the heart labors
Where the soul
Has been patient.

Winds sweep away
Ruins and blooms…
Wanderers too.