Mystery

 

The forests were fenced in by houses and industry, by commerce encircling

 

Like the walls of a prison

 

 

 

The forests in the city were relics, a museum pieces, growing in their ancient place

 

Where the forest has always been, like an alien

 

 

 

The forests was perpetually new, they was green and slender, the old growth was excised

 

Like a tumor

 

 

 

Making way for the tender branching of youth

 

 

 

I walked beneath the verdant canopy, hidden in the greening leaves, questing for a vision

 

            The beast of old king Pellinor

 

 

 

I was as wet as new born child, enveloped in the clinging dew of morning, searching

 

            For the meaning of my birth

 

 

 

I shimmered in the sunlight, refracting in the dew drops, my body’s water

 

Splintered into rainbows, bursting

 

 

 

The radiant fountain rising in the morning

 

 

 

I climbed to the top of monuments, marble giants, still and silent, cradled in their arms  

 

I wept with earthbound angels

 

 

 

I dreamt of death in the evening, of the dark and buried kingdom, of slipping into shadow

 

As certain as the retreating tide

 

 

 

I wandered without purpose, lost in the moment, in the freedom of madness

 

Blind as Lancelot

 

 

 

Following the waves to the opposite shore

 

 

 

True love endures all things, or so the Apostle said, the grief of the unknown, or the loss

 

Of what might have been

 

 

 

Pain is not penitential, but love is, and the penance of loving, its agony is restorative

 

The grail is the return to life

 

 

 

There is no life without love, or the loss of it, we are dust in the shadows

 

Sparkling in the light 

 

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