Seated behind dark horses,
Sun God rained hypnotic gold flowers.
Perfumed earth in an early garland of foul water
Bathed.
Soaked my thirsty lips,
Cob webs of forty days and forty nights
Cleared,
As if by the stroke of a painter’s brush.
My dark heart shrugged
Age old dust and mud.
Emerged it,
Like a princess on a ramp,
Shimmering in all love and good health.


No comments:
Post a Comment