DESERT ROSE

Recently,death (again)reminded me of the hollowness of temporal power
How John Donne was right and clear /how death is a flea,and we
are the skin full of holes through which pain flows.But O!she comes
after midnight with roses brought from deserts-tiny as Goddess statues
in her eyes are gardens,in her hands supplications-if tiny beauty
can live in bone hearts,why not soft muscles?Blood pumps
as a gift to us-ants would see hearts as massive generators
Her desert rose a miniature bonsai singular Lotus
It is the gift in us- to gift.It revives us!Outside ego
whole worlds spin in orbits unseen.Black space has Lights aplenty-
we just need to be where Darkness can contrast
to show us Desert rose where least expected.Only one.Each,precious
As you are

IT MATTERS !(and it does not matter
He loves(and he cannot love-
Narcissus/Apollo.Zeus/Moses.Joseph Campbell/Chief Joseph
WE are and we are not(simultaneously
Intake of breath/exhale.Release and attract
Closer than skin is thought (and feeling!
"The way out is the way in"Paradox/tautology
Meaning more than metaphor is death within
while life outside swirls in carnival attractions
there is another sideshow circus advertising-
Stillness.Meditation.Dreaming.Come into the deep
and mermaids,sirens-sing!

SPRING DOES NOT KNOW IT IS A SPRING
same for heated summers/aching autumn
The Fall led to lack of knowledge
of our true condition.