An apologue of the plants


Ignis fatuus

utopian suns, leaves eclipse the light

most creatures are nocturnal

summers once made gold, now repose in blue;

the heart

nature’s palette

a mosaic of colours

in formation of it’s whole

sets the world ablaze with colour

in a corsage of the exquisite

flowers chatter their magic

all the seasons in their shades

all the seasons under her breast, blessed

each fallen leaf brings us closer to winter

but a gypsy’s heart seeks only the everlasting Indian summer

divulge the intricacies of the silently concealed

what comes to come when the soul is in its bloom

the soul

retains it’s noble beauty

cradles every seed

loves all equally

without measure and judgement

talk amongst the trees;

all fruit grows tender, under enigmatic eyes

mellow symphonies ripen them, apprised of dubious hands

the ghost lily;

the master of mystery and surprise

sprout from nothing to its leaves

only to be lessened back to nothingness

this one, she likes to perplex

one day again in stalks and in her blooming pale

taught me how to bear the inexorable cycles of a life

knowing I could be the ever changing

chameleon in disguise

taught me how to silently embody

both a beggar and a trickster’s mind

without the need for glory

I am mystified

knowing that I could

rise from the ashes of my youth

the pink magnolia;

came to me at my birth

yielded her fragrant balm to me

a breath of life in my neonate body

bestowed upon me gifts of innocence and youth

I am reborn

I danced with joyous eyes

and sang upon my pristine immortality

the red rose;

the ostentatious queen appeared before me

a redolent thorn in all of man’s blazoned desires

bewildered, fumbled by prosaic splendours

bleed and decay in wreckage of body

where the soul can not make them whole in delirium

but dear, your eyes waterlogged with fear

can not foster the balance of the trees

let all be

wear a garland not so heavily ornate

for you will grow blind with duty

if charm shall make the eye unwise

apply salve with kindness born in the heart

in my painful ambition

imagining everything at once

the rose unfurls in magnanimity

granted me her beauty and her grace

wreathed me in thorns for when times of enmity persist

overawed I gushed in my bestial flesh and naked bone

restore me in my hope if I should

love overthrown die in an unnatural death

from arid slumber spurred back to life

mad driven by beauty

inseparable from the eye

know the vainglorious mind

the worthless glory

the purple iris;

half fallen among mortals

her great eyes mock the delicate knowings of men

their feet clangouring still along the coarse grass

as ghosts divine in their right, call upon a companion in the flesh

to make the night less soulless

the sagacious goddess offers her finest wine

in her winged thrown glory, with her herald’s wand

thirsty for the red, I drink and dare not ask

my skeletal words, unavailing

are but a wasted breath

hammer them down and strike a bid

each nail glides, rhythmical and it is me underneath

my mind in fleeting thought, in reverie

plunges towards nothing except it’s own complacency

I too, wish to be a spirit of the sudden, sharp gusts of wind

but my heart when full, embraces nothing

you sweep over the valleys and rivers with your senseless commotion

I long for nothing when lost

yet ripen under your golden wings

no path made clear in inertia shall earn praise from the soul

without trumpeting maelstroms to account for

did she put knowledge in my hands

endow me with wisdom so I can wastefully maunder

enliven this living breath, I sought out to be

all I could be

she gushed, amused at the wild honey child on her lap

immersed in a plumage of passions

the heart half driven insane by the soul

exhausts it’s comprehensions and forbearance

surrender all you hold dear for it is nothing;

love’s pleasures and the leaden pride

vainness, glory, the clamouring thought

your yearnings and your disciplines

your possessions, morals, muses and your sins

where did you get that truth?

you who mourned the coarseness of the grass

out of nothing it came

and I was set to roam the lands with the great winds

like dandelion dust, a lion’s tooth;

a promise of sheer faithfulness

wade those innocents out of intangible waters

into murky shallows, burnish renders them unalloyed

the brugmansia;

what feature appears first before the unclad eye

when look upon me you might

a figure to reach a certain prestige

what torso, frame, what slender physique

grows an image in the mind

where passion and hatred prevail

the beloved mourns the loss of a face

time’s transfigured me

open the cage.



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