Blooming Into the Dark
Might she feel comfort
With holding memories in her arms
The ones yet to dwindle and fade away?
Might there be another moment of awakening,
Full of life,
Yet shy of exposure
As might a flower unfolding in the night?
Might the bloom once picked from her bough
Remember the dance,
As petals rose and fell
Like dewdrops of tenderness
Filling the nurturing pond
Where forgotten passions
Eventually froze over
In a deepening crevasse of sorrow?
To feel the sadness becoming
But rusted arteries corroding the once beating heart,
That vessel of life’s joy and peace,
Is to feel the tears as blood for the soil,
To know a flower of desire
Might again give joy to another,
Appropriating a blossoming devotion
To the enigma of amour.
So goes the oft times
Blooming into the dark.
Ron