Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Am I not
Loved in the arms of the beloved?
The question flits thru my existence
Like a moth attracted to light
Why is it that I choose to wear the shoes of lies?
And tap out my existence over layers of shame
Why is it that I turn my ear to the echoes of deceit?
And lean into the shrouds of disdain
My soul grieves over who they say I am
Unworthy to even breathe
I cry out to the creator from which I came
Can I love?
Can I be loved?
Scales fall from my eyes
And foundations quake beneath me
There appears a single rose
Whose roots live deep within me?
The truth of who I am
Lies in the beauty of the rose
To live by the thorns would be to live by all that is fearful and ugly
To live by its fragrance and beauty in color
Would be to grasp onto all that is frail and temporal
The rose in all its splendor is my reflection
Its petals when easily crushed
Permeates fragrance of beauty
Its thorns when softly brushed
Leaves scars of caution
My Truth lies within the rose
Beautiful and sought after
In all its seasons
I shall take hold this day of who I am
And gaze in the eyes of my beloved.