The pursuit of PASSION

The bud of a desert rose.

BURNING is a desire to blossom.


In the heat of visions,

and the dust of dreams,

her sun is finding his flame.


It is awakened in whispers,

caressed in the changing wind.

The language of love,

unknown to mortal men.


A heart in longing,

heard in the humming of wings,

the symphony of ten thousand strings

playing the desire. 



Dreaming is a song of longing.

Seeds dancing in the skies of minds,

roots searching like veins,

for the home of humble hearts.


Earthbound clouds cover the pink skies of passion.

Confusion confines the sun.

Dense and dancing in dress,

like walls to wonder,

and impossibility to imagination.


Freedom is loves only desire.

And the mind fears the breaking dawn.


I watch the sun,

devouring the moon

in sacred surrender.

And listen,

to the sounds,

of the spheres turning.


Ecstasy is Earths final explosion.

Shattering the cosmic comedy, 

imploding into oneness.


Succulent, sweating ecstasy of source.

The spiral reforms,

and I taste the alluring,

of black holes,

new worlds,


of love.



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