Tired mind
Twisted heart
Hurting for closing too soon
Hurting for closing too soon
Sadness weighing on the chest
Legs hurting
The flower is bruised and cracked.
Where is the gem of all gems tonight?
The philosopher’s stone
The supplier of youth and moisture?
It still must be shining somewhere
But the purple cat is blind.
Connections won’t happen.
The dream of all possibles dried up.
What if the plane of resistance
A cloud, a fleck of illusion,
Was caught in a web of anxiety.
How could imagination have run dry?
Is it possible that the sun, too hot
Killed the flower that wanted to bloom
in its light?
The sun needs to burn to be the sun
Yet its ardent rays
Ignorant, can kill before petals unfold.
Fortunately, mature plants hold seeds of
new life,
May the breeze carry them
Where hospitality reigns.
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