I Do Not Pray

I do not Pray

Gorse blossoming in snow Image: healingherbs.co.uk

Gorse blossoming in snow
Image: healingherbs.co.uk

I do not pray to increment my days
Nor plead to ease my modest situation,
I care not for a life of lavish ways
Nor seek the power to rule over a nation.
Though least among the blooms the gorse revive
To flower midst the winter snow; yet I,
Who bear no bloom and in my seed must thrive,
But struggle forth and in one season die.
To what then might this mortal weed aspire?
Made less than gorse—ambition is but vain,
But ah, mortality, my passion’s fire!
You are my joy, though you shall be my bane;
For gorse is neither virtuous nor trite,
Save framed by mortal eyes in passion’s light.

Advertisements

Garden Memories

Retinal cell axons! Image: www.rpbusa.org

Retinal cell axons!
Image: http://www.rpbusa.org

Garden Memories

Carib sun, pastel sky
spectra felt with inner-eye
neurons fly, axons sigh
nerve-stems cry to visions high
Tactile breath, words of touch
hearts that melt as fingers clutch
hands that brush, faces flush
hormones rush as bodies crush
Flower bed, a body’s scent
psychedelic redolence
stigma rent to pollen vent
aroma sent in passion spent
Mists that form on memory’s fission
shrouds of time, intermission
trite incision, mind’s perdition
time’s derision, of my vision