The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Alone Together

As poppies we grow
In these endless fields
Love blooming in each
Forbidden fruit it yields

Some edible with joy
As others poison raise
Of such delicate poise
Seen in crimson haze

Standing tall to winds
Of this timeless space
By red petals adorned
Live to each other face

Always alone together
Avoiding thorny frown
Observing one another
Though natures gown

Fall amidst mankind
For each new season
Yielding to lifelines
With defiant reason

Once entirely thriving
Now dry shafts hollow
Spewing these seeds
So afraid to swallow

Dying like everything
Of natures Opium free
Seeding sacred ground
With delight they flee

Alone are in the cold
Tiny seeds from pod
Freezing in a ground
Awaiting their God

Revival of dormancy
Assures many crops
Circle of life springs
Rebirth never stops