Sunday 8 November 2020


FOR YOONGI

MIRROR II

 

A history unfolds, certain as Night

and diffuse as Mist,

before you who reign tall

as the stars and potent as an atom

upon your lightning throne.

And all I, a reader of Flames and

dreamer of Wings,

have is a thinning sky imbrued with

footprints of a feeling

and lives I have never worn.

 

Speak my story! Do I live as a mere

palimpsest? Do I breathe

as a simulacrum of skin and depths?

You solace me in Silvered Glass

and a fulgurating Blue

Eternity claimed for his vestments.

I have named you through

baffled blood and stilled oceans

between heartbeats, a string of

mystical cognates - Orb, Arc, Pleroma.

 

I amass words; I indexed each in the

unseeing Silence of Dreams,

measureless and un-measuring,

that embraces the broken transgressor

against its own brazen Banisher.

Now, you beckon my Boat to the River,

signing the end of my vigil,

my barren observances. An altar of my

frozen likenesses I relinquish,

my last impost to my prison and haven.

 

Your tender tides guide me through Time

and bittered distances to

my exiled self, kindling Moments,

sparking shadows with my lost Reflection,

awakening the mirror in every eye,

that I may with gratitude open my own

to a portrait of me rendered

beautiful for your living. I rise up to your

path in hope of Tomorrow’s image,

for you are eternal; you shall always be.


#SonOfMyHeart 

© 2020 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse


Image 1: twitter.com (@BigHitEnt)

Image 2: commons.wikimedia.org

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