FOR BTS

PANACEA

 

A dark Constellation quenched Sun and

Moon, as you built a City,

festooning its ramparts with reams

of violet verse, its garths with bleeding

hearts and crocus lamps.

In our skies, the gods convened; images

you seeded into the world met Forces

that called forth their meaning,

unveiling Faces shadowed and bright.

 

The Wheel stalled; breath and air paled;

resonance falters, dissonance reigns.

Time’s silence speaks

renewed questions; withering thoughts

wander his flowerless byways.

Wherefore Mirror, whence Reflection?

Would Spirit retrace bygone

bearings or heed the pull of a brighter

Star that rends that it might mend?

 

Home now dwells as shelter and bound,

compelling man to name that which

he would own or embody beyond earthly

walls of sight, touch or measure,

seeking the design in brokenness;

the kernel of rapture in deepest sorrows;

unseen monuments to the humblest

moments; the Cosmos in a space that is

at once nurturer and witness.

 

A wounded Year weeps Light upon your

Visage, upon you, whose Voice

keeps our Path and Journey. His Boon

your eyes bear to the Garden

of your Soul; in its eternal Season,

it burgeons and blooms, writing a Spring

of spirants and notes that shall

sustain through Life’s bitterest Winters,

their lambent confluence kindling the Self.

 

© 2020 Lilium Candidum

Lily’s Verse

Image: twitter.com (@modooborahae)