I

A flower in my own garden

Of living,

A bud

Shy to open up

To what could be called her

Beauty,

Nurturing for myself

From my withins

Roots and leaves

All within,

I

Am ravishing when in the fields.

Left alone, ungazed and untouched

Amidst all the other

Unknown glory.

 

You want to see me

Closer to you then,

Then,

stroke, touch and feel my scent

In your innards

And when,

i am in your hands

Satiating your senses,

Crushed in the harmony of

Your pulp

I become ‘old and dry and cold and wry’.

 

Once a God but now

A forgotten one,

I lie in the mud

Drenched and soaked

In tears from some heaven.

 

 

 

Maybe someday

Someone will know

What love is to be.

 

To let them bloom in their fields,

Their glory

Never to be held

But only to be

Felt

Just as the

Air we breathe.