A SACRED DISPOSITION


Delicate flower

 

looked up, an old fragile flower
gazing at the wide azure
savvying for a drizzle
which perhaps
could
rejuvenate its trembling veins…
in an instant
vanishes, the evanescence
in the zephyr
“O! don’t take ages ..cries the
soul…
in more anguished pain…
suffocates the last breath
here , I strangulate .”

for long I had been
away from thy shelter
sneaking out of thine refuge
warping on false slumbers…
atrophied my stature
besotted I remained,
as the power of free will
diminishes ,
the mind emaciated…
Awhile the orphic shower cleanses
my deepest caverns…
let my petals secrete
at thy humble feet
the good , bad and evil
in a sacred disposition…